No Longer Helpless
by DB2020
Summary: Hermione's life is turned upsidedown when her parents are lost and abilities revealed. The only person able to console her happens to be Malfoy. Why is the ferret on their side and able to get closer to her than all others? Will Harry & Ron accept this?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm sure you know the drill, the characters are not original, they belong to J.K. Rowling. The only part that is mine is the plot.

Please, tell me what you think. This was my first try at a fan fic. I received so much support that I finished it rather quickly. The reviews kept me going. Even with it finished I want to know what you think. I'm considering a sequel and with enough support I might just be pushed to begin writing sooner than expected.

Okay, last note I promise. The whole _angel_ like aspects in here are not as corny as you might be inclined to think. It has nothing to do with actual angels and I don't really explore that aspect too much later on. So, please, if you're put off by the concept I create in the first few chapters, just keep with it and see how it evolves. I would love to jump right into the main plot, but with the way I'm taking things… I need to set it all up first. So, please, bear with the first few chapters… they're good, but may drag a little.

Chapter One

**Fear Makes Us Human**

Summer break after six years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was upon the famous trio. The entire year had passed in a most peculiar manner. That is, nothing too dangerous or strange had happened. Of course it contained adventures and mischief making, but considering everyone was holding their breath and waiting for Voldemort to come charging out of the Forbidden Forest, it was uneventful.

By the end of their fourth term the tension that came with wondering what Voldemort was up to had eased. Even Dumbledore seemed to have relaxed slightly, though the wizened wizard was still constantly on guard.

The words of one wise auror, Mad-eye Moody, echoed in Hermione's ears, 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' The old auror's not so subtle approach to engraving the words into each person's head had worked.

It was that phrase that was murmured over repeatedly in the form of Hermione's conscience. Increasingly, she felt unease creep up on her when she parted with Harry and Ron at King's Cross.

Part of her wanted to whisper into Harry's ear, telling him to be careful, but such words would not be heeded with any extra respect, considering who he was and what he had been through already.

She frowned, looking back momentarily as she and her parents walked away. Her brows furrowed when she saw nothing but smiles on everyone's faces. Even Harry's face was alight with laughter, and he'd spent the better part of the year grieving over the loss of Sirius. Mrs. Weasley was hugging her precious children and beaming with joy at having them home for the holiday.

They too began to depart.

Not missing a stride she berated herself for not being more pleased at the moments of happiness they seemed to share. A light squeeze of her hand brought her back from her thoughts. It was her father, looking mildly concerned at his only daughter,

"Everything alright sweetie?" he asked still holding her hand while pushing her trolley toward the exit.

"Just fine." She smiled warmly.

He let her hand go, placing it back on the trolley's handle and continued chatting with her mother. Married for twenty years and they still managed to give off the aura of a newlywed couple.

Blinking her honey almond eyes, Hermione continued to observe and ponder over the year she had finished. It had started out rocky, with an uncomfortable awkwardness over Sirius' death. But seeing as how the death of loved ones was not new to Harry Potter, he was able to move on. The only difficult part Ron and Hermione played was convincing Harry that it wasn't his fault. What happened that fateful night at the Ministry was the fault of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

Sighing as rain came down in harsh torrents, Hermione stood looking upwards into the grey gloomy sky. The water splashed her face, almost refreshingly.

"Hermione dear, get in the car, you'll catch your death out there," her mother said warmly from within the car they'd come in.

Before doing as her mother bid, she whispered under breath, "Something isn't right."

As they made there way along, passing block after block of busy city streets, Hermione watched all the muggles. Among these many people were probably a few witches and wizards, blending in inconspicuously, not being noticed for what they really were. It occurred to her that there was an entire world of magic of which so many knew nothing about.

She had also been totally unaware until she'd received her Hogwarts letter six years ago. Even with the Ministry's tight security it seemed unfathomable that she could have lived for eleven years and not known anything or even suspected.

Just what exactly would she have questioned thought? At eleven, witches and wizards were from fairytales, and her observant mind hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary in the way of magic.

Now that it was her life, now that magic was a part of her, it felt as though a life without it was no life at all. Only six years ago and she couldn't fathom a time so far away.

Perhaps a small part of her had known. How could it not have when she'd so easily accepted the possibility of magic existing?

She'd been in the sixth grade, a year ahead, and drove her teachers mad with questions. Yet, when she'd received her letter she focused her research on learning about the wizarding world, not whether it was at all possible. Such a major leap in belief and she'd made it with no hesitation. Surely that meant that she'd known on some subconscious level that there was magic in her veins.

She shook her head, tousling long golden brown curls. It had been difficult for her to keep her mind on the present lately. If she didn't focus then she might be taken off guard.

'Off guard,' she thought, 'by what?'

She bit her lip. She would go mad if she didn't find something to distract her and keep the fearful and apprehensive feelings at bay.

Unable to find her distraction and not willing to interrupt the pleasant atmosphere between her parents sitting in the front seats, Hermione was left to stare silently out the window for the rest of the ride home.

* * *

There was a war brewing, but no one seemed to understand it.

Hermione cast aside a copy of The Daily Prophet in slight disgust. Though she knew she wouldn't find what she was expecting she still read the paper daily looking for any article on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

For one thing, she couldn't suppress the feeling that Voldemort was going to start an attack out of the blue. For another, she had hoped that his return to power would have been important enough to continually remind everyone of the dangers.

It wasn't that she wanted the Minister of Magic, still Cornelius Fudge to the dismay of many, to scare people into a panic and paranoia, but she felt that people had become too comfortable and were starting to forget the eminent threat that was just as great as the day Voldemort had first resurfaced.

A cold plate of pancakes and a tall glass of orange juice sat untouched in front of her on the table. The house was quite, except for the whirring sound the washer was making in the laundry room. Her parents had some errands to run for the day. They wanted to have a special dinner that night, just the three of them, so they were getting a few extra things.

Sitting there at the table situated in a nook beside the kitchen, with tall windows letting warm rays of sunlight dance over her, she began to laugh. No one was there to see, but when she laughed as she did with the sun's rays angled just so, her face lit up beautifully.

Not knowing what was so funny, she just laughed. 'If Harry and Ron were here, they'd think I'd lost it,' she thought, wiping her eyes.

All these negative feelings over events she couldn't control, it wasn't like her. It was summer and she needed this long awaited break after a very tiresome year full of studying like crazy for her N.E.W.T. level classes. She would get dressed and go out, somewhere, anywhere. The book store most likely.

A hungry growl from her stomach let her know that the pancakes in front of her weren't going to eat themselves.

After she ate heartily, she cleaned up and headed toward her room to dress.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was walking along the slightly crowded city streets, headed towards her favorite store. The store was called Frankie's. It was a bookstore, currently owned and run by her close friend Mia, the name of the place came from Mia's grandmother who was of course, Frankie.

For the past two years, Hermione seemed to have spent every free moment in that store, becoming good friends with the owner and even volunteering her time to help out on the busiest of days, which would be a day like today.

Even though it was the beginning of the summer break and the last thing most normal children did was go to a bookstore, it was a tourist season. People from all over came to their city, even their neighborhood, just passing by on their way to London. It was a nice place to be, totally muggle, quaint, but not in the boonies.

Yes, the summer was indeed a tourist season, but in recent years, that was all she had seen, not being home while things were settled down.

The trip was a short few blocks, not more than fifteen minutes at a brisk but light pace. Though Mia hadn't specifically asked for Hermione to come today, she had a hunch they might be in a sort of bunch. The newspaper, a local muggle one that is, had an article about a book signing for a fairly well known author. Of course Frankie's would be packed and Mia would be shorthanded as always, so Hermione would show up like she always did and relieve what stress she could from her thirty something year old companion.

Hardly caring to take any notice of the people around her as she walked, Hermione was unaware of the eyes that followed her. They had been watching since the moment she left her home and took note of every movement she made. Little did the mudblood know, but tonight was going to be a very interesting night indeed.

The flashing lights caught her attention, red-blue, red-blue. It was the revolving lights on a police car, parked just outside Frankie's. There was a crowd of people flooding into the streets and down the sidewalk. Mentally, Hermione prayed that the crowd had been there because of the signing and not as gawkers to some crime scene. Heart sinking as she began to jog over to the crowd, she knew it was most likely a mixture of both.

There was no ambulance, but she still felt no relief, since she might simply have come too late. Pushing her way through the crowd, rather forcibly a few times, she didn't care for manners in the face of her friend's possible injured state.

Hermione finally caught sight of a rather frazzled Mia, who sat unwillingly on the passenger seat of the policeman's car. The door was open and she sat with her feet out as one officer was questioning her, another officer was inside the store.

Sighing with relief, Hermione decided to lend a hand. Ignoring the obvious invisible barrier created by the edge of the crowd and police tape, she stepped forth.

Just as she drew the attention of the cop questioning Mia, she cleared her throat and called out, "Mia!"

Glad for the chance to stop sitting when she only felt like pacing and ranting, Mia stood up like she'd been electrocuted. Spinning around she looked over the hood of the car at the familiar voice. There came Hermione, the dear girl showing up when you least expected it with the profound ability to remedy any situation. Unfortunately this would not be the case today. Today, she had a little more trouble than a lack of staff to help on a busy day.

The officer stopped his questioning to allow the young brunette to come forward, since it was obvious she might be able to calm the frantic storeowner.

Mia wanted to break down from shot nerves, and just have a good cry, but before that she needed to confide a million details to Hermione, which she tried to do all at once.

Amazingly, from Officer Cody's perspective, the younger woman seemed able to keep up on the fragmented sentences and half thoughts spouted off by the owner. In what seemed like one breath, Mia started with, "Oh my god, Hermione you wouldn't believe… today was such a big day… and now… we needed this so badly, really we did… I mean, not that we're in danger of closing, but still, ya know… and then this bloody creep… a bum I tell you… those who can't earn their own money… he doesn't deserve the time of day… didn't get everything though… but now this mess… all these people… I'll never live it down… if my mother were here… I've never been more frightened in all my life," she ended with a sob before collapsing into Hermione's arms and crying on her shoulder.

This seemed like a rather odd image to the other officer coming out from the store, since the younger girl was not more than five foot five and of a rather slender build where as the owner, Miss Thatcher, was six foot and rather larger when compared to the other.

Escorting Mia back toward the car, Officer Cody took the hint to help her settle back to where she'd been sitting only a few minutes before. This time she sat crying, but oddly more calm.

Taking a deep breath, the young girl stood straight and turned to Cody, "Sir, I'm Hermione Granger." She extended her hand.

"Officer Cody," he replied, shaking her hand and gesturing to the woman behind him. "This is my partner Officer Tearnogh." Before he could even begin any inquisition about Hermione, the girl's brown eyes flashed with a small glint, there seemed to be a sharpness to them that had not been there during her brief consoling of Miss Thatcher.

"I'm a friend of Mia's. Am I to understand there was a…" She paused as if reflecting on the fragments of sentences Mia had muttered to her. "…robbery?"

Both officers stood side by side now, more than happy to deal with someone of a more stable emotional state at the moment. "Yes. Suspect is male, mid forties, five seven, two hundred pounds, black eyes, haggard appearance, ski mask. He accosted Miss Thatcher as she was setting up for the day, he managed to get what was in the register at the front counter, but made off right after. He was armed and held Miss Thatcher at gun point through out the confrontation."

Hermione nodded. "Was there any damage done to the store?"

Officer Tearnogh shook her head. "Nothing but a couple of displays knocked over, and the lost money of course."

"Right, well, today is a big day, isn't that right Mia?"

Mia had ceased crying at these words, and gulped giving a small nod. Her hand was taken by Hermione's as she knelt down in front of her and wiped the tears away. Squeezing her hand and looking directly into Mia's eyes, with such warmth and conviction that Mia felt all her troubles practically disappear, she said, "Now, everything is going to be fine. That guy isn't here anymore. The only guns around are those on the officers, and I assure you they won't be waving them around like maniacs. Everything is going to be fine."

"But the signing," Mia protested, coming back to her senses and responsibilities, while her dark eyes watered again.

Hermione gave one final squeeze of her hand and let go. Turning back to the officers she asked, "Does this scene need more processing? I mean, under these circumstances it's mainly witness' testimony that matters, right?"

Tearnogh quirked a brow at the behavior of Miss Granger. If she didn't know better she would have wondered if she was an officer herself, since her mind seemed to follow procedures. There was something about this Hermione. She couldn't place a finger on it. Maybe she was just a sharp one. Every person was different. It was silly to place stereotypes on all teenagers these days. Though, that's what might have been off about the girl, she didn't seem to be a teenager at all. It was the eyes, yes, that's what didn't seem to fit, her eyes. They conveyed an ageless wisdom at the moment.

Snapping from her short reverie Tearnogh answered, "No, this scene's been processed. We have the video feed, and nothing went much further than the entrance." She knew where the girl was going with this.

"So, everything is set? The store can open as planned?" she asked eagerly.

This made both officers smile. "I don't see why not," answered Cody. Both partners were of the same mind and had the same thought as they watched Miss Granger usher Miss Thatcher inside.

Tearnogh smiled at Cody. "I think we've just found our candidate."

Cody chuckled. "Not now though. When we come back to follow up, we'll ask her." They were both thinking about the summer internship offered to any person willing and able over sixteen. Every pair of cops was encouraged to promote the summer camp program by submitting at least one name to the register. Ten kids were chosen to intern at the station and get an inside look at the life of a police officer. It seemed every precinct was running short on cops these days, so in recent years the program was set in action and seemed to work well enough. Their rank numbers had increased dramatically, if not in their area, then in other parts of the country. This girl they encountered by chance would be perfect, they could both tell. So, when they came back tomorrow, they'd seek her out and talk to her about it.

The day waned on slowly. Hermione settled Mia down, made her some tea from the café, and restored order to the world. There seemed to be little Mia could do, her nerves were frazzled. The frantic woman wasn't about to stop Hermione when she felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. So she sat idly by as Hermione took over for the day. Taking over included putting things back in order, greeting the author, managing the employees, ringing sales, keeping stock, controlling the crowd, the list seemed endless.

Finally it was the end of the night. Having just flipped the OPEN sign over and locking the door, Hermione closed the registers, safely putting all the money in the back safe. It was a rather late hour, just after midnight. The signing had ended hours ago, but in light of the special event they were open two hours later and somehow managed to have a few customers to the very end.

As Mia sipped the first of her hot tea, decaf as she had been reprimanded earlier for sneaking coffee, she glanced at her friend through the steam. Hermione had chided her, saying that the last thing she needed was to be wound up like a spring when she was likely to pop from the tension any second as it was.

Now, as she watched, the steam swirling in puffs, she stared at Hermione's back while she closed the door. Her mind raced with a million thoughts, pausing every now and then to remind her how much of an angel this girl was to her. Mia's eyes widened in shock before she quickly blinked several times. Just then, she could have sworn she'd actually seen… no it couldn't have been. The steam, of course, there's no way it could have actually been what she'd thought.

For a brief moment, Mia actually thought she'd seen the wings of an angel on Hermione. Not exactly in a full feathered fury as she'd been one to imagine them being, but she was sure she'd seen something. Then again, as she concluded, she had been looking through the steam. The puffs must have formed a likeness of faux wings.

'Okay,' Hermione though wearily, 'The day is over, thank Merlin.' She had never been through such a long day.

Stifling a yawn she walked over to Mia and sat down in a chair across from the older woman. She pulled the band that held her hair up in a bun out, and let her tresses of golden brown locks cascade down. Only hints of bangs framed her face, while the rest fell to her mid back.

Mia had watched over the past couple years as that hair finally developed. Of course she hadn't known Hermione when she was so bushy haired, but she'd seen a couple pictures and found it hard to believe that someone's hair could change so drastically just from growing up and growing it out. They were smooth and natural curls. Some strands were just wavy, some almost straight.

Mia wondered why she found herself suddenly analyzing Hermione so much, from her hair to her face. Such a pretty smile when she was truly happy, which she had noted long ago seemed to mainly be when she talked about her two friends Harry and Ron. Yes, her bright smile lit up the room and her eyes would gleam with joy. Those deep rich eyes never seemed to stay the same shade of brown or bronze when she saw her each time.

Now the younger girl sat blowing on her own cup of tea, closing her eyes momentarily to smell the warm liquid. Long dark lashes splayed her smooth cheeks as she inhaled through her petit nose, graced with a few barely visible freckles.

Mia was entranced as she watched her friend blow softly to cool it. It had been months since they last met, and even though Hermione treated it as though they had just seen each other yesterday, Mia could not. No, it couldn't have been just yesterday, not when the girl looked so different. She had always been a pretty girl, but that was it, nothing more. Now, after getting a good look at Hermione, another year older, nearly seventeen, she stared almost bewildered. No longer just pretty, Hermione was beautiful, breath taking even. When had this happened? Maybe it was just her tremendous gratitude that made the change, but somehow she doubted that. If Mia were ten years younger, she'd probably feel jealous.

"What is it?" Hermione asked finally noticing the stare she was receiving from the other end of the table.

"An angel," Mia whispered almost inaudibly.

"Huh?" Hermione intoned thinking she'd heard wrong and nearly choking on the tea she had just swallowed.

Mia's eyes snapped to attention as she again came out of her reverie. "An angel," she said more loudly, coughing to hide the literal seriousness she had used in her voice before. "You've been such an angel today. I can't tell you how much what you've done means to me."

Hermione smiled softly. "I'm just glad you're okay. I was so worried when I first saw the siren lights there."

"Oh, I was so relieved when I saw you there. I swear when I heard your voice I thought it was too good to be true and didn't believe it was you until I saw you."

Suddenly the old Mia seemed to come back, Hermione noted with a smirk.

The storeowner had her second wind and the shock no longer impaired her coherence. So with renewed vigor, she started up a mile a minute. "I swear I've never been so frightened in all my life. He came out of no where. I don't even remember opening the door. I usually don't do that before everything is set up. But, it's best I did because he probably would have broken in and there would have been more money for him to steal. Oh, could you imagine if I had set up all the registers already. He would have gotten more than a couple hundred outta me." She paused, suddenly becoming very solemn, "I was so helpless."

"No Mia, there was nothing you could have done, he had a gun," Hermione soothed.

The blonde shook her head. "You don't understand, even if I could have done something, I don't think I would have. I was nearly petrified, hardly able to move. I don't even remember giving him the money. It all happen in what felt like a split second. I didn't think any of it was real, and when I saw that gun, I thought… no, I _knew_ I must have been dreaming. In all my life I never thought something like this would actually happen to me. I mean, sure I've imagined it happening, if not to me, then around me. But somehow, I saw myself with more courage, even a few heroic moves to save to day. But I don't know I tell you…" She suddenly seemed at a loss for words. She started to cry again. "I'm such a coward. I can't believe I was so afraid."

In a flash, Hermione was at Mia's side, consoling her with a comforting arm wrapped around her. She stroked the store owner's hair, saying, "Mia, there was nothing you could have done. You managed to live, that's all that matters. If you tried something, I don't want to think about what the consequences would have been."

Immediately her thoughts went to Harry, always the hero. She never really stopped to think about how difficult it really was. 'Saving the day' as so many had put it, seemed almost a natural thing to do for Harry. Even she and Ron had managed to show great courage in the face of great peril. And yet, Harry had been the only one to remain so strong and steady under the worst of situations, dueling with the Dark Lord himself. In all honesty, it wasn't something she could grasp entirely. She had felt fear before, but never as such described by Mia, or surely felt by Harry during his more dangerous encounters.

Her mind thought for another moment before reaching for an answer that seemed most logical, _helplessness_. It was the feeling of being helpless that caused such fear. Among the Golden Trio, when they faced danger they had each other and therefore were not so helpless. This was why she hadn't felt the way Mia had earlier. Any situations she had been in, she always had the back up of Ron and Harry, and always had the thought that if things got out of hand, then Dumbledore would miraculously show up and save them all.

Suddenly Hermione had a new view on her escapades throughout her years at Hogwarts. For the three friends who were always joined at the hip, they would each have the support of the other two. When Molly scolded them for their dangerous excursions and somewhat adventurous defiance of the dark side, they hadn't quite understood where her fears came from. Their lives were more than forfeit if they went too far or screwed up, this they knew. But, when together they seemed unbeatable, and it was this thought that Hermione hadn't realized they relied on.

* * *

Sighing, Hermione moved one foot in front of the other as she walked home. Having escorted Mia back home and chatted for a bit about the past year at her boarding school, she'd called it a night.

"Constant vigilance," she muttered to herself as she stared at the ground. So much for actually listening to Moody's words. She was almost irate with herself at this point. She'd come to realize that she ranted on about the whole wizarding world not understanding the true danger that had been brewing, all the while not even being able to feel what it truly meant to fear and see her own death.

All too soon, Hermione found herself distracted by an entirely different and more pressing matter. Not too far ahead up in the sky, she saw it, the Dark Mark. She didn't even have to see her house to know that it was right above it, where else would they have set it off.

"Shit," was all she said before sprinting forward, head first into whatever danger might lurk there. Her only thought was of her parents. It was nearly two in the morning, and they would have been in bed long ago, having gotten her message about being late with Mia.

Several eyes watched the young witch as she flew around the corner, like a lioness having heard her pack's call for help. She was being watched going and coming. Six Death Eaters in total were on assignment tonight, to make sure the mudblood saw her end. Two figures in masks and black robes stepped out of the shadows in pursuit of the blasted girl who had irked the Dark Lord for the past six years. It was his plan to kill off those Potter held most dear first, which was no surprise considering the hate and malice he held for the bloody 'boy-who-wouldn't-die'.

Voldemort had devised his plans long ago, only to be set into action now due to a few inconvenient delays. It was, after all, his coming out celebration. Once again his presence was known and even though he would have been better suited to working his evil in obscurity, the cat was out of the bag and the Dark Lord felt inclined to create something of a bang.

Together the trio seemed to have nine lives, but separately they were more vulnerable than a new born.

As they followed, they remained hidden by the night as each streetlight went out with their approach. Their target was too worried to notice anything but what lay ahead.

As total darkness enshrouded the ground Hermione left behind, slowly creeping up to her heels, she turned the final corner and her house came into sight. All lights were off. Of course, she wouldn't have expected anything else at two in the morning. All would have been fine except for the ever looming skull and snake marring the sky above.

Slightly out of breath after sprinting the last couple blocks, she slowly approached. She at least had enough sense to not rush in like a complete fool. Her mind was rational, so as she crept around the side to slide in through a basement window, she knew she was doing the wrong thing. Entering the house at all was enough to get her several hours worth of lectures from Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Remus, Snape, Moody, even Fred and George. She knew it was a bad idea if she could count on Fred and George not even thinking it wise. Thoughts of Moody yelling at her made her think of his advice. Yes, she would try her best, considering she would surely face the unexpected no matter how ready she might think she was for a surprise attack.

She dropped down to the floor. The basement was pitch black, not a good thing for her. Very little light came in through the small ground level windows, one of which she had just squeezed through. If someone were here now, she wouldn't be able to see them for another ten minutes or so, whereas they would most surely be watching her every move.

Having finally caught her breath, she remained as still and silent as possible. She just stood there listening to the silence. Her hope was that she'd suddenly hear familiar voices from above, signaling that the cavalry had arrived or her parents were perfectly fine.

Nothing came however. Her mind raced as she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for them to adjust, willing the process to speed up. Her thoughts were frantic no matter how focused she tried to make them. The darkness and silence made her think of Poe's poem The Raven.

'And the silence was unbroken,' she mouthed as no sound but her own breathing and heartbeat reached her ears. 'And the stillness gave no token' Opening her eyes she saw the room now, void of Death Eaters.

'And the only word there spoken' she continued to mouth without speech as though it was encouraging.

'…was the whispered word…' Suddenly, hearing a scream and thud from above, she said, "fear." She rushed for the now visible staircase.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Helpless**

Concern for her own well being had been thrown to the wind the moment she had seen the mark. Now as she cautiously climbed the stairs, avoiding the three that creaked, her only thoughts were of not getting caught and reaching her parents.

If aurors hadn't shown up yet, there was a good chance that at this point she'd be the first to arrive on the scene. And being the first meant a whole lot when it came to swaying the outcome.

Wand in hand, having pulled it from her pocket the moment her feet touched the bottom step, though in truth it _should_ have been the moment she saw the mark, she ascended. Part of her wanted to take time to review various spells that might come in handy, but that was just the part that made sure she reviewed material she knew she had memorized like the back of her hand over and over.

At this point, if she couldn't conjure up even a simple defensive spell in the spur of the moment then she didn't deserve to have received all those O's on her O.W.L.S. Besides, she had already determined that time was of the essence.

The scream she had heard earlier was most certainly her mother's. She couldn't only hope the thud she heard follow wasn't as bad as it had sounded. There was a sickly vibration in the floor boards above that had told her it was a rather hard landing, and the silence that followed after didn't help ease her fears.

Her heart was racing before she could even grasp the door handle.

Where was Ron when she needed to discuss battle tactics? Should she continue to move undetected, in hopes that no one knew she was here? Or, should she assume that there were a whole mess of unfriendly fiends waiting for her just outside the door, and blast through giving them an unexpected rush?

'Dammit!' she cursed in her head. Was this silence there because no Death Eaters remained, or was it because they knew she was here and were waiting for her. 'Okay,' she began to rationalize, slightly at a loss with out Ron there for maneuvering discussions.

'There was a Dark Mark above my house. Of course there are Death Eaters here. I'm their target. Why leave without killing me?' Her mind went back and forth playing both the questioner and the answerer.

'They wouldn't,' she concluded.

'Which means?' Her mind worked slowly on each detail.

'They must be here still. Obviously, that's why Mom screamed before.'

'Why the silence?'

'Because it's so damn unnerving!'

'Exactly. My chances of living are all lowered by these factors.'

A chill crept up her spine. It was finally starting to set in, the reality of the situation. She was in grave danger. Now as her adrenaline wore off, she could hear the voice in her head telling her to run. 'Never!' she scolded herself for even thinking it. 'Focus!'

'So, they were here… somewhere.'

Suddenly the basement didn't feel so alone. She glanced back down into the darkness, much of the room cut off from view by the stair well. There was no movement and she hadn't seen anything earlier, but now that she had concluded that there was most definitely some Death Eaters here, she couldn't help but feel like they were lurking right behind her.

Yet she saw nothing, just the bottom half of the washer and dryer and her old bicycle propped against metal support beam. Then, as though waiting for her eyes to begin searching for them, she saw it. A shadow past the base of the stairs, in a quick flash, it seemed to have shot by. She nearly jumped out of her skin. It had looked like a black mass moving in the already dark room.

It was then she realized that standing at the top of the stairs made her rather vulnerable. They were open stairs and she couldn't see behind them from here. Whatever had moved by could be right underneath her and she wouldn't know. Then there was the fact that the walls cut out to make the cove at the top of the stairs cut her vision of most of the room off. If she hadn't seen anything down there before when she had scoped the place out, then she definitely wouldn't be able to see anything coming now.

If the broken stillness had startled her, then the broken silence scared the hell out of her. There was a scratching noise, light at first.

She had gasped, her heart racing a mile a minute, feeling as though she could do nothing more than wait for that black mass to attack her. Before the scratching noise had come she had almost wondered if she had imagined the shadow moving below, simply because she had been waiting for some sort of attack throughout the minutes of silence. But now she knew without a doubt she was not alone.

She debated going through the door. 'Out of the frying pan into the fire,' was all she could think of.

Her mind was made up for her when the persisting scratching became harder, giving her a terrifying realization. The vibrations from the scratching were coming from under the wooden stair, the one she was currently standing on.

Gulping, she leaned over and peered ever so slightly into the pitch black that engulfed the back of the stairs. She only needed to see it once before her eyes widened and her body reacted. There had been a glint. Not just any glint, but the glint off of a seemingly bodiless eye. Not a second after she had stepped through the door way did she see a ghoulish hand, rather claw like, rake out from underneath the step.

Heart beating a mile a minute, forehead damp with condensing sweat, Hermione stood with her back against the basement door. She let out a long breath that she didn't even realize she'd been holding.

Quicker than she would have thought possible with the way her hands were shaking, she latched the simple lock on the door. Somehow, even though her mind knew logically that whatever was in the basement could get upstairs if it wanted to. It gave her some relief knowing that the door was now locked.

Holding her wand readily she saw just how much her adrenaline must have been pumping. She clenched and unclenched her hands, trying to still their shaking, but to no avail. It wouldn't matter much anyway, just point and incant. Still, the Gryffindor inside her didn't want to give the Death Eaters the satisfaction of knowing they had affected her so.

The house was dark, the only light was from what moonlight made it through the sheers and blinds. To her right was the kitchen. To her left was the atrium, and off of that was the living room. It was the living room that she had placed the scream and thud from earlier, so this was her new destination.

Her mind's eye seemed to remember her home looking quite different, even in the dark. The pale moonlight cast upon the dark shadows that were the walls and floor created a bluish hue to everything. The short hallway leading toward the front entrance seemed to stretch forever, oddly distorted in a dreamlike fashion. She blinked, hoping to clear the sight, but it did no good. It must have been her mind playing tricks on her.

Slowly and silently, Hermione walked the distance one foot after the other. Thankfully she was wearing sneakers, which kept their silence as well as any shoe could. Now, if only she could only keep the beating of her heart and her shallow breaths out of ears reach.

If she had analyzed things a bit more she would have remembered that her presence was already known. Hell, it was more than known, it was highly anticipated.

Something caught her eye on the hardwood floor ahead. As she moved closer it glinted with every step she took. Her head felt heavy and dreamlike as her subconscious worked out what the glint was. When she was a couple steps away, the rest her brain seemed to realize what she was seeing. There on the floor, with more leading away into the living room, was a bloody boot print, starkly contrasting to the shadows in its red glory. A couple of the prints were smeared, as though their owner had swiveled around.

Hardly bothering to keep her caution, she simply approached the living room eyes fixed on the prints as though they were her trail of breadcrumbs taking her to where she needed to go.

They did indeed lead to the living room, which was where she wanted to go, but she doubted that bloody footprints would lead her to safety like bread crumbs would.

Her heart was heavy with the conclusion that it could only be her parents' blood. Unless one of Voldemort's crewmen had decided a sandwich would be nice and cut themselves while spreading the mustard, which she highly doubted, the blood could only belong to either of two people.

The next few moments seemed a blur to her, a blur she would surely relive for the rest of her life in both dreams of sleep and in dreams of pensive daytime thinking. Questions of what she could have possibly done to prevent it, forestall, exact revenge, and the like would surely play over in her mind like a broken record. Right then, however, she could only live in the moment and try to accept what was.

The fight left in her seemed to rapidly dissipate when she finally beheld where the footprints lead.

In her living room, surrounded by six figures of tall shadows, were her parents. Yes, they were there, just not as she had been hoping and praying. Their bodies were lifeless, bloody, and mangled. Her mother was on the floor face first, still in her nightgown.

From what she could see she had open wounds in the back, stab wounds. It didn't take a detective to figure out what the bloody dagger, which was lying beside them, was from. Her father, rest his soul, was strewn haphazardly over her mother's body, as though protecting or mourning his wife. He too suffered similar wounds, except these were less stab like and more like gashes and slashes.

Having seen enough, not wanting to see glossy eyes staring at some fixed point, only to wish the life back into them, she tore her eyes away from their bodies. Her next focus was of course on the shadows around them.

One shadow moved forward. Hermione knew right away that it was the same one from the basement, because as it moved a bit of moonlight caught on its hands, which had the same ghoulish structure.

Tears filled her eyes, one escaped rolling down her soft cheek and falling to the floor. She could almost swear that she heard it hit the wood. But, who knows what her mind perceived in such moments of shock.

The Death Eater before her had come to stop, just so the light from the window splayed its face. Through the mask she could see dark eyes, no color perceptible in such darkened conditions. Almost pleadingly, her own eyes kept theirs, as if asking the question her mouth soon vocalized. It took her a couple tries before actually getting her voice to work, and croaking out, "Why?" Another tear fell.

It almost looked as though the Death Eater was at a loss. It hesitated before answering, almost as if it were not expecting this reaction from her, almost as if she had instilled remorse in it. Recovering from the moment's hesitation a woman's smooth deep voice answered, "Because, they're muggles and their daughter is an annoying mudblood friend to the bastard Potter."

As an extra kick in the stomach she continued, "They didn't have to die. They could have lived normal lives, happy lives. But, you changed that. Because of you they earned a death sentence, we are merely the executioners, doing our job. You were their sentence to death."

"No," Hermione whispered. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. She was _supposed_ to come rushing in and find them safe and save the day or have aurors burst in and take care of everything. They weren't supposed to have died. This wasn't meant to happen. Yet it was. And it was her fault, wasn't it?

The mind game was beginning. Another Death Eater stepped forward, a man this time. "We don't waste our time with the fruitless death of muggles, though they'll all pay eventually. _They_," he gestured to her parents' bodies, "didn't need to meet their end so soon. Had you not angered our Lord off they would be up in their beds right now sleeping soundly."

She shook her head slightly, unable to argue, unable to refute the truth to their words, unable to realize that there never was truth to a Death Eater's words.

"Fitting end don't you agree?" sneered the woman. "Muggle death for the muggles." She cackled, followed by a roaring round of laughter from every other shadow.

Something snapped in Hermione, logic left her, so did part of her sanity at the moment. "BRING THEM BACK!" she bellowed, almost screamed. The laughter died immediately. Apparently, she was surprising them more than just one time that night with her reactions. "NOW!"

Had there been no mask, Hermione would have seen the incredulous look on the nearest Death Eater's face and confusion on a few others. 'What was this mudblood on about?' they seemed to think.

The woman, Bellatrix Lestrange, Hermione now recognized the voice, sauntered forth. Picking up the dagger, she paused, wiping it clean on her mother's night gown. Then she stood and held it threateningly.

"It's high time you joined them Mudblood. Though, I do believe we shall prolong the experience. From our Lord's stories you are quite worth the Cruciatious. We shall make a few small holes in you first, drain some of your muddy blood out."

Gathering what wits she had left, she tried, rather feebly, to put up a fight. "Expelliarmus!" she tried.

Sadly, Lestrange called out casually a 'protego' and reflected it back. It would seem her years of training weren't worth a thing this night. Try as she might have, there was too much of a difference between actually facing the enemy and playing out things in her mind. Not to mention she was under a considerable amount of shock, which impairs the best of abilities.

There she stood, wandless and helpless. As Lestrange advanced, Hermione retreated. Oh, how helpless she felt. She might as well have been four years old crying her eyes out over a splinter, too upset to even take it out. Looking for some possible weapon or form of protection, even escape route, her eyes left the sight of the dagger and roamed around.

Her wand had clattered far off, no chance of retrieval, unless Lestrange gave her a ten second head start. Finally, as though wanting to look upon her parents in her last few moments of life, she stared at their bodies. So lifeless, so still, so dead.

Her tears that had dried up the moment she had started shouting now began to flow once more. There were so many emotions inside her right now: sadness, regret, fear, anger, despair.

"Ready to beg for your life mudblood?" Lestrange taunted.

At these words one emotion seemed to topple the rest: anger.

'Beg?' she thought, 'Did my parents beg? NO! Will I?'

"NEVER!" she shouted, cheeks flaming with ire. Her eyes flashed maliciously. She'd never go down without a fight. Now that she had come to believe her death was eminent, she felt her courage return, her fear disappear.

There was something bubbling underneath the surface within her. It had been simmering the moment she had seen her parents, now it was ready to spill over. Just as she was ready to tackle the enemy before her, prepared to use her fists as her only weapon, she suddenly felt heavy lidded.

Blinking once, she seemed unable to reopen her eyes. She wasn't tired though. She needed to fight, to avenge her parents, to put up a fight worthy of her name and reputation as a Gryffindor and brightest witch Hogwarts had seen in years. But, something inside of her seemed to disagree with this. She felt herself slip into unconsciousness, unwillingly.

Lestrange seemed to tire prolonging anymore than she had too, since they were going to drag her death out as it was, they should at least get on with it. So, in one swift lunge she stabbed forward.

The eyes underneath the mask widened in utter shock. The blade had crashed into something, a barrier. Though she could see nothing surrounding the insolent chit, she knew something was protecting her. Knowing full well that she couldn't have cast a spell with out her wand, her only conclusion was that reinforcements had arrived and someone else had cast it. She stood back and crouched as though anticipating an attack. She looked about the room. The other Death Eaters seemed to catch on quickly and spread out in search. For a few brief moments, they all seemed unaware of the now crackling energy surrounding Hermione.

Finally their attention was drawn back to the girl when a light caught their eye. She stood motionless, eyes closed. There was a light that surrounded her and seemed to grow in intensity. So much so that it became nearly blinding. No form could be seen from beyond the light anymore.

Lestrange lunged again in a feeble attempt to eradicate the source. The power was too much. The metal of the blade seemed to disappear as it fell to ash, closely followed by the small hilt and Lestrange's hand. Had Lestrange been any slower in disapparating she would have lost more than just part of her arm. The rest of the shadowed figures copied Lestrange's actions, more than one followed so shortly after that one would wonder if they weren't simply bailing without the tacit order.

* * *

It was in the middle of what used to be the Granger residence that Dumbledore, Moody, Tonks, several other Order members, and several aurors from the ministry found Hermione. There was a large crater in the ground encompassing the grounds of Hermione's once humble abode.

At the center was a ball of light. No house, no Death Eaters, just the crater and the light. For a short while, perhaps ten minutes or so, everyone seemed at a loss for what to do. They didn't know Hermione was at the center of the light. And in all honesty, not even Dumbledore seemed to know what the light was, though he had his suspicions and theories.

They had determined that it was treacherous to touch. However after their short waiting period of perplexed stares and discussions the light dimmed down. Slowly they were able to discern a figure within.

As it became more and more clear, the Headmaster seemed to be the first to recognize any of what was before them. His breath hitched and his eyes widened in shock, before his brows furrowed and mind began working over time. A few more aurors present, Tonks and Moody included, seemed to follow Dumbledore's reaction as they too realized it was Miss Granger they were seeing.

What was before just a silhouette was now a cleared view of the young witch. Laying motionless on the ground, curled into herself, she was unconscious. To their shock, unmistakable wings jutted out from the girl's back. The white wings lay limp, slightly folded and as dead to the world as the rest of the witch was at the moment.

Of the wizards and witches present on the scorched grounds, not a one of them moved a muscle. Anticipating the next event, they stood. Though, anticipating or not, a few jumped a little when her wings moved. The feathers fluttered in an imperceptible wind. The folklore appendages folded up, while a few white feathers shifted loose and blew along the dirt ground. Then, the wings were gone, making them wonder if they'd seen them in the first place.

It was after all this that they were finally able to make contact..

Questions would be saved until later, when the person they were asking was awake. Now, they needed to get to safer grounds.

With that they all left with loud cracks of apparition.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Breaking the News**

The trouble with the attack on Hermione at this point was deciding whether or not to tell Harry and Ron.

Dumbledore contemplated his options, carefully weighing each aspect. Of course he came to his conclusion that such matters couldn't be withheld from Harry, and if he told one then he would have to talk with the other as well. Even if part of him was saying Harry would be better off not knowing, he couldn't help but remember what had resulted from keeping the prophecy a secret.

If there was ever a man to learn from his mistakes, it was Dumbledore. He would not keep Harry in the shadows any longer, not if they were going to win this war.

Gravely, the Headmaster stood up from his chair in front of Hermione's bed. Taking a few steps backwards, his navy robes swayed. He kept his eyes trained on Hermione's sleeping form, wondering what to do about the other issue at hand.

Though an easy 'Enervate' would have been in order, Poppy had said it would be best to let her wake of her own accord. So, Dumbledore had waited beside the girl, hoping to be the first face she saw and person to question her.

Now however, he needed to visit the other members of the trio. He needed to talk to them about her condition.

It didn't bode well with him whenever he couldn't place all the pieces of the puzzle together, especially after trying his best to make sense of it all. Eventually he would figure it out, but he'd need help. The aide of his library and perhaps a few old friends would more than likely sort all these jumbled details out.

Regardless of not knowing all the answers he would break the news to the two young men. Walking back to the doorway, he left the large room that was the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts.

* * *

Having been woken up a bit earlier than he would have liked, Ron Weasley sat somewhat bleary eyed in a soft armchair at 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry on the other hand was used to either staying awake or being woken at all hours of the day, so he was rather attentive to the serious mood Dumbledore was in right now.

The two of them sat in similar chairs in a small study of the Black residence. Having refused to endure the Dursleys any longer Harry found he much preferred staying at Headquarters, even if Sirius wasn't there anymore. Ron on the other hand had been home in his bed when his mother woke him up and told him to get dressed, before departing for the old Black mansion.

Stifling a yawn, Ron blinked his slightly watered eyes and rubbed his freckled face. With one big intake of breath he slowly exhaled and started to feel the fog lift. Now that he knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep, there was no point in remaining half way so.

His flaming red hair was unkempt and jutted out here and there, some pieces lying flat and covering just past his ears. He preferred his hair to be some what lengthy, just so it would cover his ears, because they seemed to always be the first part of him that went red when embarrassed or angry. Shifting slightly, he propped himself up straighter, giving his long legs more room.

Harry didn't move at all. He sat straight, with his arms on the rests, a little worried at the upcoming news. His raven brown hair obscured part of his vision and still looked windswept even after brushing it. Through his glasses his emerald eyes bore holes into the door, waiting for it to open.

Neither spoke a word, not needing or wanting to. Harry finally blinked when he saw the doorknob twist.

Dumbledore entered the room. His long robes moved with his tall frame. Many felt that the old wizard was slightly imposing, though each Hogwart's student would say differently.

It didn't take a genius to know this man had power of many kinds. With each step the Headmaster surveyed the room. First the bookshelves, packed on one side, a little sparse on the other, all old and ancient texts. The wooden floor had a sole rug, its rich red color now a dull orange, tarnished and beaten from years of shoes and feet walking all over it. A recent addition stood out against the worn contents of the room and the actual room itself. A mahogany desk sat brightly in front of an unused fireplace. The desk was about the only lively thing in the room, apart from the two boys. The two armchairs were on the other side of the well-used workstation.

This was Remus' study. At least, it was the one he had been using while at Headquarters. The kindhearted werewolf wasn't a man for frivolities.

Green eyes stared unflinching into slightly dimmer than usual blue ones. Taking a seat at the desk, Dumbledore laced his hands together with his elbows propped up on the tabletop. Sighing, his eyes searched for a moment, trying to figure the right words.

"Harry, Ron," he spoke with assurance and calm while looking from one boy to the next. "There has been an attack." He paused a moment, wanting to let each bit of information settle in before giving the next. "While I promise you that she is alive and breathing, Hermione was the target." Those were really the only basic facts, the target and condition of said target. Now the rest would be filled in when he answered the questions that were sure to follow.

"How is Hermione?" Ron questioned, standing up in one swift motion as if to stride into the other room and find her there. His tall frame reached six foot three inches and was more than out of place beside the other two sitting figures.

"Please, Mr. Weasley, take a seat. We have much to discuss." Dumbledore ordered calmly.

Listening immediately, as though it was automatic to follow orders, Ron sat on the very edge of the cushion. "Where is she, can we see her?"

Shaking his head Dumbledore attempted to make himself clear before Ron went haywire. "Mr. Weasley, please understand that this is a delicate situation. You are not allowed to see Miss Granger."

At these words Harry, who had remained seated casually, though his concern was betrayed in his eyes, finally stirred. "What do you mean we aren't allowed? What happened exactly?"

Ron kept his silence, partly because he felt Harry would do a better job getting the answers they wanted and partly because he didn't trust that he could keep his cool at this point. Their Hermione had been attacked. She was alive, but in what condition?

Pausing just a moment, Dumbledore explained all they knew on their end, still unclear for what details needed to be filled in by Hermione herself. "Mundugus was Hermione's Watcher. He was on duty yesterday when it happened."

Ron twitched. He almost opened his mouth to express his anger at being informed more than ten minutes after the incident took place. If anything happened to any of them, it was their wish to know immediately, _not_ a day later.

"He was missing, but reports placed him at St. Mungo's. No doubt the work of the Death Eaters. He told us what he could remember, which didn't include anything from the attack. The last thing he remembers was Hermione flipping the closing sign on a bookstore called Frankie's."

"Frankie's?" Harry questioned, "She was closing a store?"

"It would seem so. I do not make a habit of detailing every aspect of your lives. It is not my wish to invade Hermione's privacy, so I simply set a watch, not a house arrest. I doubt it has anything to do with the attack, so that matter is irrelevant."

Neither of them liked that there were things about Hermione they knew nothing of.

Nodding in agreement, though storing the information away, Harry waited for Dumbledore to continue.

"Time wise, it was shortly after Mundugus' last visual contact of Hermione that the attack took place. The ministry of course received reports of underage magic." Perhaps the whole truth was in order. In fact it might even serve as a warning to Harry who possessed such untapped power, impressing the need to begin taking precautions. "A rather large amount of magic was detected. So great in fact, that it occurred to us Voldemort himself might be attacking. It is never a good thing when raw magic is unleashed." He met Harry's eyes and searched for an understanding at his underlying meaning.

Slightly irked that his mentor would be trying to advise him when all they wanted to know was what had happened to their friend, Harry narrowed his eyes. It wouldn't do well to actually get in his way of Hermione, the same went for Ron. There were a whole new set of rules when it came to the three of them. "Sir, what was the source of this power?" he asked, keeping the conversation on track

As a perceptive man, Dumbledore left his tactic behind and decided to solely focus on what Harry wanted. "Hermione was the source. I'm afraid I can't go into details on that right now, since I myself don't know what happened exactly. When she wakes up we can question her."

"She hasn't woken up yet? How can she be okay then?" Harry's tone was betraying his concern with hints of desperation.

"Madame Pomfrey assures me that she is merely sleeping. It's quite natural to sleep for extended amounts of time after such a large exertion of magic. Her body is tired and needs this rest. Aside from that she is in perfect health."

"So, if she's fine and just asleep, why can't we see her?" Ron asked, hoping to find a loophole and get Dumbledore to change his mind.

"No. If there is one thing I must insist upon it is that at this point in time you cannot see Hermione. Not until we know more." His words left no room for argument, much to the boys' dismay. Neither would settle for this, he knew they'd continue trying and asking.

Of the three, Harry sometimes acted as the more logical one, next to Hermione. He left the matter of seeing Hermione behind, though not dropping it entirely. Now he needed to ask the right questions. If he knew Dumbledore as well as he thought he did, there was either a time limit to this conversation or a limit to the number of questions he could ask. "If Hermione is perfectly fine, then what was the attack on about?"

Nodding approvingly, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with slight pride, but dimmed again when he spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger were subject to the attack. Sadly, they were murdered. Again, we don't have much information. We're waiting for Severus to come back from a rushed meeting with Voldemort. It is my guess that the attack didn't go as planned, though the state we found Miss Granger in would have indicated as much."

"And what state would that be, sir?" Harry inquired keenly.

Raising his eyebrows over his half moon spectacles Dumbledore smiled ever so slightly. "Alive, Harry. Their plan was surely to put an end to our Head Girl's life, which I'm overjoyed didn't happen."

Both boys nodded, having no reason to suspect any other meaning in what the older wizard had said.

"Head Girl?" Ron asked.

"Ah, yes. For this coming school year, Miss Granger has indeed been selected to be Head Girl. She doesn't know yet of course, so I'd appreciate it if word didn't get out," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

The two of them smiled at this information. "She'll be thrilled, when she wakes up of course," Ron said, already imagining the way her face would light up.

The mood had lightened considerably and Dumbledore felt that now would be a good time to call it a night, or rather a morning. It was still dark out, but it was nearly six o'clock. As Dumbledore stood, Ron and Harry followed suit.

"Sir, you'll contact us and let us know everything that is going on won't you. Once she wakes up, you'll tell us, right?" Harry asked, rushing to get at least a few more questions in.

"Of course," the Headmaster assured. "Now, however, I must see to business. Good day gentlemen." With a flutter of deep blue robes, the old wizard left the two boys alone. His concerns were now with Severus and the possible conscious state of Miss Granger.

Harry and Ron stood, smiles wiped off their faces. Both were rather imposing, Ron with his height and strong build, like his brother Charlie. Harry was only a few inches shorter than Ron, and although not as broad or largely built, they had near equal physical strength from six years of training for their favorite sport, Quidditch. Not to mention he could instill fear with a harsh glare. When he wanted to and sometimes without meaning to, his gaze was so sharp and his eye color so vivid it made even a Death Eater think twice about approaching.

Dumbledore was an extraordinary wizard and was well adept to manipulating a situation and judging character, but he had underestimated both of them. Reaching behind the chair Harry pulled out an old traveling bag, tanned dragon hide worn with wear. Inside were their cloaks. Handing Ron his slightly tattered burgundy one, Harry pulled out his own dark slate one.

Donning his cloak, Harry didn't even look at Ron while asking, "Think we can make it Hogsmeade before anyone knows?"

Ron grinned broadly. "That's what makes this fun."

With that the two of them were off, on a mission to reach Hermione, not caring in the least about being told not to. When she woke up, they would be right there beside her.

* * *

"We'll have to discuss precautions for Granger's safety tonight at the Order meeting." Snape was now clutching his forearm and standing. It was evident that the Dark Lord was summoning him. Leaving the Headmaster's office he swept down the stairs, black robes billowing behind him, face paler than usual.

Dumbledore was left to muse by himself, which was just what he wanted after hearing Severus' report. He needed some time to think matters over. According to the potion's master, the Dark Lord had been in an uproar over the 'insolent wench' and her survival.

He stared at the basin upon his desk and frowned slightly. Then he leaned forward to witness the events of that night all over again. Severus had kindly allowed him the use of his memory from the meeting to more easily obtain what information he felt important.

The Death Eaters who carried out the attack had been harshly punished. Suffice to say the word 'crucio' was used quite often. Then, being a bi-polar maniac, Voldemort went from being furious to absolutely elated over the incident. Not a second after he used his power of Legimens on a severely injured Lestrange, he laughed.

Everyone had gathered around, waiting for new orders. "It would seem," the Dark Lord hissed, "that the mudblood is now more useful to me alive than as a rotting corpse." He paused, formulating yet another evil plan. "Snape!" he called.

One Death Eater stepped forth. "Yes, m'Lord?" he bowed in subservience.

"You are to keep an eye on this girl. I want to know every detail about her, and I don't want her to so much as cough with out knowing about it. Go back to Hogwarts for now. I'll speak with you later."

That was the end of the memory. He had apparently turned up outside the Headmaster's office shortly after.

* * *

Harry and Ron were surprisingly sly when they truly wanted to be. Having Harry's invisibility cloak and Marauder's map didn't hurt their quest either.

They had made it all the way to Hogsmeade without tripping any alarms or raising any flags. They were nearly there. Being so close to their destination they both began to grow slightly impatient as they waited for the coast to clear before heading into the basement of Honey Dukes.

Before they knew it, they were heading down the dark corridor that was the secret underpass between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. All the way to the Hospital Wing they crept silently, yet swiftly. Finally reaching the large double doors, they hesitated. Unsure of how to proceed, they checked the map.

Hermione was in there and she was alone. Not another soul in the room or nearby. It was almost too good to be true, which they were well aware could be the case.

Easing the door open, they slid inside and discarded the invisible guise. Part of them hoped she'd awake just for them, somehow knowing even in her sleep that they had arrived. Instead, she remained motionless, lying in a bed at the far end of the room beside a tall window.

As they neared, they were able to see her better. Standing in front of her bed, both boys stared in shock and awe. Their Hermione didn't appear to be anything but asleep, but they saw something rather unexpected. Ron let out a long breath, "She's beautiful," he stated, almost entranced.

Harry seemed to agree. Closing his mouth that he didn't know was hanging open he nodded. "I've never seen…" he seemed at a loss for the right words. Perhaps they were both just overwhelmed to finally see her again after so much worry over recent events. But, as they gazed at her sleeping face they knew that wasn't true.

Neither could place it. She didn't seem to have changed since they saw her last, which was just the other day. And yet, here she was, appearing as they'd never seen her. Maybe it was because she was asleep. No, that was ridiculous. Perhaps this had something to do with why Dumbledore didn't want them to see her, something had happened.

Her hair was a mass of golden brown locks, gently gracing her shoulders and pillow. The morning sun poured in over her. Her features were soft and glowing, lashes dark and long touched her rosy cheeks, plush red lips unmoving in silence. Slowly and steadily her chest rose and fell beneath the covers.

After a few minutes of simply staring and wondering, they pulled up a set of chairs, one on either side of the bed. The trio was reunited. The world seemed to spin again.

An hour or so later, Ron and Harry's conversation over who might be able to fill the opened positions on the Quidditch team was abruptly interrupted. The Hospital Wing doors flew open and Professor McGonagall strode in dragging a more than reluctant boy with her.

"Poppy!" the Transfiguration professor called out.

"Professor, I swear I'm fine. Honestly, coming to the Hospital Wing is a bit much," came a deep and stern voice.

"Nonsense," she brushed his concerns away. "Moody got you pretty bad with the last one. There is more than likely some internal damage." Just as she seemed to realize that Madame Pomfrey wasn't there she caught sight of Harry and Ron. Of course she knew Hermione was there. Her eyes widened. The two boys seemed to have similar reactions, standing to face their strict Head of House.

"Professor, please, we couldn't possibly not come," Harry began, but stopped once she held her hand up.

"Might I leave now, professor?" the same deep voice from before asked, only now there seemed a harsher, cooler tone to it.

It was then that Harry and Ron finally noticed. There, standing beside professor McGonagall was Draco Malfoy. His trade mark sneer was set in place at the sight of the other two boys. His hair, while still white blonde was not slicked back, but hanging at odd angles, much as Harry's did on his best hair days. Some of the hair hung limply in his eyes. His clothes were not the impeccably clean ones he wouldn't be seen without as before. Now, they were riddled and caked with dirt, mud, and grass stains. There were a couple of torn pieces in his shirt, especially over his chest, where it almost looked like the shirt had been burned through. A small gash marred his composed and impassive face, along with a smear of blood and dirt.

The Slytherin crossed his arms over his chest, an action that had never before that day been intimidating. Having finally come into his own, his physique was almost a copy of Harry's.

Malfoy had seemed to change an impossible amount in little over a week, since that was the last time either could remember noticing Malfoy. Though, neither boy could proclaim they had studied their enemy's features, so he had most likely spent the year growing into the young man before them today.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Sleeping Beauty**

When the trio faced a Malfoy there were a few things that were instinctive, the first was to draw a wand. Now however, Harry and Ron's first instinct, other than to gape at the unexpected presence of a Malfoy, was to shield Hermione from view. They stepped together, not even realizing what they were doing. Their hands were rather blatantly in reach of their wands.

"Potter! Weasley!" McGonagall barked. "Come with me if you please." She left no room for protesting as she turned and headed into Poppy's office.

More than reluctant to follow, Harry and Ron did just that. They slowed their pace as they passed Malfoy, even more hesitant to be situated where the blonde was closer to Hermione than they were.

Draco rolled his eyes. This was more than ridiculous. "Professor, I'm leaving."

"You will not leave Mr. Malfoy. Stay as you are, in fact take a bed and I will deal with you in a moment," McGonagall's voice sounded from within the office. After ordering Harry and Ron to take a seat in front of Poppy's desk, she paged the nurse via floo.

"Bloody hell," Draco sighed as he made his way to a bed. He couldn't help but be a bit curious as to what Potter and Weasley were hiding, so he walked to one of the far beds.

The continued shouts of McGonagall told him that she had only begun her lecture on the two Gryffindor gits. He was not privy to any information pertaining to Hogwarts' Hospital Wing guest, but if it had dumb and dumber in a huff then it more than likely would have involve the least dumb of their lot. Okay, 'least dumb' was an extreme understatement, but the day he admitted Granger's intelligence was the day Snape complimented Potter in potions.

The closer he approached the more odd he began to feel. For some reason, perhaps Moody's hex finally catching up to him, his heart had begun beating more rapidly. His stomach felt unsteady, not nauseous, but unsteady. It must be the internal damage McGonagall had been on about. His eyes seemed transfixed on one point, the person lying in the bed. Of course he knew it was Granger, who else would the other two have been mooning over.

Now that she was in clear view his breath hitched and his heart drummed its steady and rapid beat. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked again. He saw exactly what Harry and Ron had seen before, and just as they were, he was also at a loss for an explanation. Although he wasn't in the best state for using his brain to its full capacity there seemed no logical reasoning behind it.

Granger was simply breathtaking. It was enough to drive a good man insane with desire. However, he had been raised with a strict manner of self-control and would neither admit or act upon anything that he felt would be inappropriate behavior for a Malfoy.

She was asleep, or appeared so. There didn't seem to be any physical damage, not to her face anyway. Her face was whole, pure and untouched with a soft glow from the sun. He shook his head, not even wanting to be having such damnable thoughts, since thoughts were the gateway to actions.

As much as he wanted to tear his eyes away he felt compelled to watch for as long as possible, since once Potter and Weasley were back he wouldn't be able to so much as glance in the general direction of her bed without receiving a brutal hex sent his way. Not to mention she could wake up soon and he couldn't very well stare at her while she was conscious.

His brows furrowed in anger as the first thought he had at her being awake was of wishing it were so. He shook his head again, as if to throw off all unwanted thoughts.

Before he could continue any inner battles a movement distracted him. For an instant there, he thought he saw her stir. Yes, there it was again. Her eyes fluttered. He walked closer, leaning over, waiting for her to stir again. Slowly, almost seductively, her eyelids opened. He couldn't help but follow the long lashes.

Clouded and confused grey eyes met fogged and frightened honey ones. She stared up at him, not moving, except to blink away the fog and awake fully. Her soft lips parted slightly, as though ready to voice the concern held in her eyes.

Finally mastering himself, which was quite the feat now that he could see her elegant features finally animated, he quirked a brow and gave her a smirk. "Welcome Granger, to the land of the living."

Her eyes widened at his words then became tearful. Now he felt down right awkward, he hadn't said anything mean, just not the warm words Potter or Weasley would have had for her. Part of him wanted to say something consoling or apologize, but he fought that away, beating it down with a stick.

Then, before he could stop her from getting him in trouble by starting to cry, she leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Hanging off him, he was pulled down in his surprise, but quickly recovered and pulled back.

Hermione was now kneeling upon the bed top, covers strewn, with her arms encircling his neck. She didn't speak, and he was too shocked for the moment to do anything other than allow her to cling to him. He thought she might be sobbing, but she was so quiet she couldn't have been. Her face was buried in under his chin and against his collar bone, while the rest of her scrambled to press closer.

It was at the mile a minute pace his heart had started going that brought him to his senses, at least what was left of them. "Granger!" he cried in outrage.

Her arms tightened around him at the harsh tone of his voice. 'Was she frightened?' he ventured a guess. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded fiercely, though less harshly.

"Please," her voice whispered hot breath in his ear, sending chilling vibrations down his back. "Don't go. Don't leave me."

He had no idea what she was on about. Did she even know where she was, who he was, or what she was doing? She must not have, otherwise she wouldn't be doing it. He groaned in frustration, he shouldn't have to deal with this after such an early and long day.

"Professor!" he shouted, going against his instincts to either leave all trouble behind by prying her off or wrapping her small body up in his arms and calming her.

Silence met his call. He tried again, "Professor!"

He heard the office door open. "What is it Mr. Malfoy?"

He didn't answer her, but waited for her to notice. With a grim frown, he prayed he would get lucky enough to have only McGonagall see this predicament, lest he be forced to battle again, only this time not in training, but in fending off two royally pissed Gryffindors.

Silence followed, not a sound came from behind him. If only his back weren't turned he would know what was going on. Once he heard the main doors open he felt compelled to turn around, regardless of the fact that he had Hermione draped around his neck.

He lifted his arms and tried to unclasp her hands, but the second he began she squeezed tighter and tried to draw in closer. Instead, he stood up straight, taking the stubborn girl with him.

While he was able to stand with ease, hardly having to compensate for the light pull she created, she dangled in what he had to assume was an uncomfortable fashion. Unable to stop himself he finally gave in and wrapped his own arms about her, lifting her legs up and cradling her back. She stopped squirming and settled for hiding under his chin.

Now facing the rest of the room he saw the faces of two gaping boys, a rushing Madame Pomfrey, and no McGonagall. Potter and Weasel seemed incapable of speech at the moment, and did nothing but stand in place.

Draco knew it would be coming soon when the redhead's face began to take on a color matching that flaming hair. Weasley was furious. And the harsh glare he was getting from the green eyed boy was enough to make him want to take a few steps back. He stood his ground though. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. If anyone was going to be blamed for anything it would have to be Granger. He hadn't gone and shaken her awake or told her to grab a hold as though letting go would mean death.

Just when it seemed like the two boys would make their move, Dumbledore came striding into the room with McGonagall at his heels.

"Harry, Ron, kindly wait in my office please," the Headmaster said, hardly sparing them a second glance. When neither made to leave he turned to them and raised his eyebrows.

"Sir, with all due respect, we're here for Hermione and won't leave," Harry stated, with a supportive nod from Ron.

With a guilt trip worthy pair of disappointed eyes, Dumbledore looked at the dark haired boy for a long moment. "I admit it has been some time since I last had the right to expect you to follow all of my instructions, now that you have grown up so much it is no longer my place. I had hoped, however, that you had kept the same respect for my wishes as you did when we first met." That was all he said before turning away, leaving a cold heavy feeling in both boys' hearts. His words were worse than any punishment they had envisioned being given, upon disobeying orders.

Madame Pomfrey came out of her store room holding a bottle of black liquid and a measuring cup. She bustled her way over to Draco and Hermione. The Headmaster moved toward them as well, followed by McGonagall of course.

"Set Miss Granger down dear and drink this," Madame Pomfrey said casually as she began to pour a rather thick and large amount of the black liquid into the cup.

Something swilled within the bottle. Draco thought it looked like a snake or large worm, and the scent was rancid. If she thought he was going to drink that she was off her rocker.

His frown deepened when the medi-witch acted like he was the one holding on to the little bookworm. "In case you hadn't noticed, Granger won't let up on her death grip. Don't you think I would have tried to be rid of her presence by now," Draco stated maliciously, not caring that all staff members at Hogwarts deserved equal respect. Well, some less than others, he thought vaguely of Professor Trelawney and Bins.

"Yes, of course we can see quite clearly Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, coming up beside Madame Pomfrey and standing head and shoulders above the short nurse.

The nurse would not be deterred, she practically shoved the dark potion at Draco's face. He would not be forced into anything however and refused it with a sneer. "I'm fine, and I will not be drinking that."

"Come now Mr. Malfoy. Minerva has informed me that you have injured from a Seremnae hex. I'm surprised you are able to stand at all. It is a very serious matter, just because you can't see the wound doesn't mean it should be disregarded," she chastised.

Narrowing his cool grey eyes at her, he remained firm in his decision. "No, I only want you to untangle Granger and let me be on my way." He made a point of raising his voice so that it carried to the other two boys. Hoping the obvious wasn't clouded from their understanding, he willed them to accept that he hadn't done anything. While he greatly enjoyed pissing them off, this was a little more than he usually bargained for. From the look in Potter's eye he had the impression that the boy who played _hero_ for fun might actually try a hand at playing _murderer._

"Dear," Madame Pomfrey said soothingly as she set a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

This was a big mistake. There was a small crackle and the nurse pulled her hand back with a yelped. Her hand had been burned, not badly though, just enough to make her retract it immediately. Hermione lurched forward, pressing impossibly closer to Draco.

Rolling his eyes, having been in this position for too long, Draco racked his brain for some answer. Having her this close was getting difficult. His heart had yet to stop its fast pace and his senses were becoming clouded as he kept relishing the scent of her hair and the feel of her body against his own. He wouldn't accept for a second the idea of harboring feelings other than loathing and hate for Granger.

"Granger," he began in the softest voice he was willing to give with his audience. "Dammit, get off me. Didn't you here Pomfrey, I need _medical _attention." Something seemed to work, for she lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

She searched for a moment, and then when her behavior seemed unable to become more out of place, she leaned her forehead to his and closed her eyes. After a moment, she pulled back and met his eyes again.

No one in the room spoke. They didn't know what to say. While they had assumed she was merely sleeping it was now obvious that there was something else the matter with her.

Hermione's soft voice broke the silence, barely audible to the others. "You're hurt," she said in neither a statement nor a question.

"Fairly perceptive witch aren't we?" Draco mocked.

She smiled, beaming at him as though he had been serious in his remark. At her reaction his stomach flipped and his face felt warm.

Dumbledore didn't know what to do. From Poppy's burned hand, it would seem that they couldn't touch the young witch. But, that raised the question of why Mr. Malfoy could. Harry or Ron might be a wise choice to experiment with. They would probably stand a good chance of getting near her. However, he recalled the disintegrating rocks they'd tossed towards the barrier when they'd first found her after the attack.

Hermione started to move her small frame about. Draco let her go and she slid down to stand slightly unsteadily on her own two feet.

Just as relief was starting to wash over him, she did something that almost made him wish for the situation he from before. Of course, when he was under the impression that things couldn't get any worse, they did. Hermione, once gaining fair balance, proceeded to lift his shirt up.

These were bold actions for the bookworm he had taunted for the past six years. If he didn't know any better he'd say this wasn't Granger. Not wanting to appear as startled as he felt at suddenly having a beautiful girl lifting his shirt and running her hands all over his stomach and chest, he remained unflinching. He did however tighten his muscles, which were droolingly toned for any witch's eyes, at the soft trail of Hermione's nails.

Giggling, Hermione looked back up at him and smiled again. He was uneasily reminded of a small kitten trying to appease its new master. The next moment, as she pressed her palms flat against his chest, he felt a warm sensation from within. There was a small amount of white light radiating off her hands. And then it was over.

She stepped back, still smiling, staring up at him as if waiting for something. He couldn't do anything but stare right back at her, angry that he missed her touch.

Seeing his anger, her smile faded and her eyes glossed slightly. Guilt pricked at him, and he couldn't help but say something. "Granger, did you just heal me?"

Nodding slowly, she continued to wait for a more definite reaction to gauge whether she'd done well or not.

He felt compelled to say what next came out of his mouth. Merlin help him, he didn't want to, but he did. "Err, thanks." Though his word of gratitude was spoken gruffly and in an unsure tone, she seemed to accept it.

Again she tackled him. Though she was small and light and he was bigger and stronger, she had caught him by surprise and when he'd tried to step back his leg met the bed. Down he went onto the bed, a giddy freak of a stunning girl clinging to him once again.

Sighing in frustration and defeat he just lay there on his back and let her cling, curling up to him.

Finally, someone else spoke. "Bloody hell! What's wrong with her?" Ron demanded, feeling angrier at the entire display before him than he'd ever been at anything in his seventeen years of life.

Dumbledore looked rather amused, but did his best to keep a grin off his face. "Nothing that can't be fixed boys. I assure you that Hermione is fine."

Madame Pomfrey seemed curious more than anything else. She turned to Dumbledore. "She really just healed him?" she waited for his nod before accepting it. Then she smiled. "This is a wonderful development."

Dumbledore strode back to Harry and Ron. "If you would accompany me to my office, we have much to discuss." At the disapproving looks on their faces he added, "I promise you she'll be fine, but for now we cannot get near her. If you'd be so kind as to help me with a bit of research, we'll set things in order."

Reluctantly, Harry and Ron followed Dumbledore out of the Hospital Wing, not even glad that Hermione was finally awake. Rather, they were fuming at what had just transgressed. She was all over ferret boy and he hadn't done anything to stop her. Of course not, how could anyone refuse being touched by her, she was too innocent throughout the whole thing. It was most disconcerting.

They had come all this way to be with their friend and put their minds at ease by waiting for her to wake up. Part of Ron irrationally started to blame McGonagall for what had happened while part of Harry decided Malfoy's death wouldn't be out of the question.

While Weasley, Potter, and Dumbledore went off, Madame Pomfrey and McGonagall began discussing the situation. Draco was left to lay there calmly with Hermione half on top.

'Merlin, what the hell was going on?'


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Stunt Riders**

Ron and Harry spent many hours pouring over books in the library. It had been their reasoning that the faster they found what was wrong with Hermione the sooner they could fix it, or have Madame Pomfrey fix it. Not to mention that at this point they felt rather guilty over disobeying Dumbledore, so when the older wizard had asked them if they would do some research they readily accepted.

Sighing dejectedly, Ron ran his fingers through his hair, a habit he had picked up since they had first begun reading four hours ago. "I'm tired Harry," he whined.

Harry sighed also. "I know how you feel. This isn't how I pictured my summer break being spent." He paused becoming more solemn. "I don't imagine Hermione planned to spend hers this way either."

Harry set the book he'd been searching through down and leaned back in the chair. Closing his eyes, he rested a moment, more than exhausted. Their seventh year was far from starting and he was already sick to death of books and research. Much of his ill will was created from his lack of finding the answers that he had been spending so much time looking for.

It wasn't right. If Hermione had been the one doing this she would have found exactly what they needed after ten minutes.

That was the trouble when it was one of their own that was in need of rescuing, the other two were gimped. Together they were unbeatable, separated they were lost.

Checking his watch Harry decided they should call it quits. At the rate they had been trying to go, all the words were meshing together. As much as they wanted to find their answer and resolve this situation, they didn't want to be rash and overlook something.

Flipping the book he'd set down shut, Harry called an end to their fruitless search. "We should head out. The meeting is in an hour and I want to see Hermione before we go. Besides, I'm sure Dumbledore will have the answer already, I think this is just our punishment for sneaking here."

Ron stood up glad to be done with the library and looking forward to visiting their slightly-out-of-character-but-only-for-the-moment friend. Then a thought occurred to him. He turned to Harry, looked slightly horrified. "What if she's, you know, still all over the ferret?"

Harry cringed in remembrance. "No, she can't be. He wouldn't have the patience to put up with her anyway." If being around Hermione agitated Malfoy as much as being around the ferret agitated Harry, then Malfoy wouldn't be able to put up with her hanging all over him for more than he had already.

"I don't know about that, he didn't seem too upset before," Ron huffed, still angry beyond reason over the way they'd found Malfoy holding Hermione and not shoving her touch off. It didn't matter that Malfoy had done exactly what either of them would have. What mattered was it was _Malfoy _who had been there when she woke up and _Malfoy _who was able to be near her. Ferret-boy would pay dearly, this he had sworn.

Harry thought back and had to disagree with Ron on that one, but didn't say anything, lest he upset the redhead even more. Finished with searching through the endless volumes describing and sometimes even depicting all too detailed magical maladies, they left, not even bothering to put away the books strewn about over various tables. After all, they weren't completely calling an end to the search, and without Madame Pince there to yell at them, they could do as they pleased.

* * *

Sighing, Draco made to sit back up. He'd been lying down for three hours now, Hermione contently holding onto him as she slept. He didn't know how she could be sleeping now. From what Moody had just told him, she'd been asleep for the better part of two days already.

Of course there was something just underneath the surface that no one told him about, like the reasons for why she'd been here in the Hospital Wing unconscious, or why she was acting so strangely. All he knew was that he was suffering for it. Not only had he been forced, for there is no other possible way he would have allowed Granger to touch him no matter how easy she might be on the eyes, to stay with her this long, but now he had orders to humor the insufferable chit.

Having straightened up, Hermione stirred, reaching out to take hold of his shirt. "Granger!" he barked.

She quickly retracted her hand, eyes immediately taking on the look of a hurt and lost kitten. Growling, Draco amended his outburst, "Don't look at me like that." The next few words were forced and said in a sigh, "I didn't mean to yell."

Her gaze was uneasy and still wary, and yet there was something pleading about it.

"Moody was just in here." He waited for a sign of recognition at the old auror's name. When none came his suspicions were confirmed. She didn't know who he was or anyone around her for that matter, possibly including herself.

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. Assessing the severity of her condition might help. "Can you speak?" he asked, unable to keep the cold tone from his voice. Of course she could, he'd heard her before. But, it was only a few words and compared to her usual ability to spout off streams of facts and quotes from books, she might as well have been mute. Even if this wasn't the same Granger as before, it was still Granger.

She nodded slightly, wide-eyed and timid.

"Then do so," he commanded.

Her plump lips parted slightly, he could see the glint of her teeth just beyond. It was more than unnerving at how pleased he was by watching this. The action was not followed through. It appeared that in her haste to listen to him, she had begun to speak, but not thought of anything to say. Widening her mouth slightly, she shut it again and gently bit her bottom lip, looking at him imploringly.

Staring for a moment, his mind became slightly dazed before snapping back. "Do you know your name?" He decided this was as good a place to start.

Still not speaking, though apparently she could, she shook her head. Abruptly she stopped, her eyes lit up like a child with candy. "Granger!" she barked in a tone eerily like his own.

His eyes widened. She was mimicking him, quite well too. Pressing his lips together he tried to stop himself but failed miserably. After a short struggle, he burst out laughing. That was the funniest display he'd ever seen from anyone, and the fact that it was coming from Granger only made it better.

Wiping tears from his silver eyes he coughed and recomposed himself. It didn't last long however, once he caught sight of a bewildered Hermione another fit over took him. Gods, it felt good to laugh like that, something he didn't do too often. Not just him though, no one really had much to laugh about during these dark times.

One last smile played across his lips before turning into a smirk. 'I suppose this isn't Granger after all,' he concluded, slightly relieved. If it had been her then everything that had happened would have been wrong on so many levels.

Now he was content to try and look past her one link to the bookworm-high-horsed-muggleborn from before, which was her appearance. 'Although,' he mused, 'Granger never looked quite so sexy before.' Perhaps there was even less of a link than that.

Still keeping his Malfoy composure, he attempted to set some things straight. "No, that is not your name. Your name is Hermione Granger."

She nodded. "Herminegranger," she tried to repeat, but missed poorly.

Smiling, he shook his head. "No. Hermione Granger." It wasn't that she couldn't form the sounds, since she was capable of speech, as she had proved. She just didn't understand the concept of a two-part name. It would be simpler to stick to one part. He'd only be using one part anyway, so why bother teaching her when she'd be back to normal sometime that night, hopefully. "Granger," he changed it.

"Granger," she obediently repeated.

"Good," he curtly congratulated with a nod, and he even went so far as to pat her head. This proved a mistake however as she seemed prone to overly exaggerated actions in all moods. If she was frightened she clung to him for safety, if she was scolded she cried, if she was commended she jumped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Merlin," he grumbled to himself as he tried to pry her arms off him yet again.

Giving up, since she would probably just attack him again as soon as he could get her off, he settled by letting her have her way. "Do you know who Moody is?"

"No," came her voice, muffled against his stomach.

"Well, he was the man who was just here…" He remembered she'd been sleeping during that. "He wants me to go down to the Quidditch pitch. Okay?"

She didn't reply, but squeezed his waist.

"I'm going now." He really did have to leave. Enough of his time had been wasted already. "Granger, let go of me." Truly, he had appeased the girl longer than he should have. There were no excuses for Moody, and as it was he'd be serving harsh make up terms. Prolonging things only made to dig his hole deeper.

Running a hand through his blonde hair he took a deep breath and let it out.

Slowly, Hermione let go of him and sat back, legs folded beneath her on the bed. Casting her eyes down, she seemed to be giving him reluctant permission to go. He rolled his eyes at her display. Just because she wasn't trying to guilt trip him on purpose didn't mean she wasn't doing just that.

Standing up, Draco turned and strode confidently towards the large doorway. His heart seemed to weigh heavier with each step. By the time he'd made it the door, reaching to turn the handle, he couldn't help but cast a wary glance back. What he saw made him cringe. She was still sitting, slouched now, unmoving, and head bowed with unmistakable tears dropping down. 'Oh for the love of-' he thought before shouting, "Granger!" Hermione's head shot up startled. "Get over here!" he conceded. She'd won, the stupid girl.

In a flash she was off the bed and dashing over to him. By the time she'd jumped into his arms again, his cheeks were sufficiently a tinge darker than the rest of his face. If Malfoys ever blushed this would be it.

In the time she'd taken running over, he'd realized she needed a different set of clothes. The Hospital gowns were far too short and revealing for his liking. It was bad enough trying to beat down certain thoughts without having the added issue of dress thrown into the mixture. Checking his watch he cursed.

"I don't suppose you have an extra set of clothes handy do you?" he asked, slightly hopeful.

A headshake supplied his answer.

"If you come with me, you have to behave."

Seeming to know what behaving meant in his book, she let go of him right away and stood smiling.

"And you have to keep up. We don't have much time and I need to stop for more suitable attire." Having received a nod of understanding Draco set off at a jog.

* * *

Having made their way to the Hospital Wing, Harry and Ron walked through the doors with many different versions of what might be going on playing through their heads.

Neither of the two had been expecting an empty room. Well, it wasn't totally empty. The reliable medi-witch Harry had come to know from his frequent visits to the infirmary was bustling about the just inside the storeroom, humming a soft tune.

"Madame Pomfrey," Harry called out, seeing her through the open storeroom door. "Where is Hermione?"

The nurse turned, smiling at both boys, glad to see them with out injury when ever possible. "I don't know Harry. I suppose she left with Mr. Malfoy."

Harry's eyes narrowed, but he directed any anger away from the nurse, knowing she wasn't at fault. He cleared his throat. "_Hermione_," He made of point of exaggerating her name, just in case the witch had forgotten who Hermione was exactly, "left with _Malfoy_?"

It couldn't just have been him who saw the insanity in the situation, surly not. Did Madame Pomfrey find no wrong in what had transgressed earlier, or that their girl, who was an enemy to ferret face, had left with him?

"Where did _they _go?" Ron asked, hardly able to keep from using his wand and interrogating the kind woman for every detail on what happened after they left.

Madame Pomfrey's brows furrowed at their odd behavior. Mr. Weasley appeared to be feverish, looking slightly flushed, and Harry was looking anywhere but in her eyes. Teenage boys were some of the strangest lot she'd ever had to deal with. Perhaps with the exception of Mr. Malfoy, she'd seen all sorts of adolescent oddities from each student.

Mr. Malfoy however seemed to have skipped that part of his life all together. Indeed, he'd been a child of eleven when he first arrived at this school, but next she knew he had the eyes of an aged and seasoned man, who'd seen too much for his own good.

Madame Pomfrey had always danced to the beat of her own drum, as Harry was aware during moments like this. If someone was sick, she disregarded all things unnecessary, focusing solely on healing the patient. If she found a thought that peaked her interest, she'd stop in the middle of a conversation, furrow her brows and chew things over silently in her own little world, oblivious to others. That was exactly what she was doing now, and neither boy seemed to appreciate being ignored when they were in a rush.

Just when Harry was about to say something, the nurse seemed to stir from her reverie.

"I would assume Mr. Malfoy is where he usually is at this time of day." It was an open-ended statement as she was trying to impress some sense into the two boys' heads. She'd never liked the house rivalries and could hardly stand for the blatant and extreme animosity between Slytherin and Gryffindor, or rather Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. Even now during such times they found enemies in each other, when neither seemed to realize that there was a mutual enemy in Voldemort.

Mr. Potter knew nothing about young Mr. Malfoy. But, alike, Mr. Malfoy knew nothing about Mr. Potter. Things would be changing though, and soon.

If the attack on Miss Granger was any indication, then the Order of the Phoenix would be banding together and organizing more fully, revealing certain discrepancies, which had been previously unmentioned to any of the younger additions to the Order.

"I would venture a guess," she continued pointedly staring Harry down sternly, "that Draco is on the pitch training."

Both Harry and Ron's eyebrows shot up. Then Ron grinned and said more to Harry than Madame Pomfrey, "So, the ferret thinks a summer of training will make him a better Seeker than you." He snorted at the mere idea. "Good luck."

They stopped grinning when Madame Pomfrey's look changed from her usually casual warm one to an icy glare. Neither could remember being glared at by any staff member other than Snape.

"Ignorance is bliss I'm told. If you two have nothing further to do here, I suggest you make better use of your time. Mr. Malfoy would never be caught idly standing about, doing nothing." In a huff she turned and stalked back into the storeroom, leaving Harry and Ron staring after her.

She had just praised the ferret and insulted them. 'Was she even allowed to do that?' they wondered vaguely. Wait, forget being allowed, why would she want to? What had they said that suddenly made them fall out of favor with the medi-witch?

Entirely confused, they looked to each other for some sort of answer. Finding none, they did the only thing they could think of, they left.

"What had her knickers in a twist?" Ron asked, exasperated that their fuming had been stomped out by the sudden coldness they'd received from Madame Pomfrey.

"I don't know. She got all defensive about Malfoy for no reason," Harry replied, most unhappy with the turn of events taking place the past day. First Hermione was attacked, then Dumbledore was disappointed in them, and Malfoy was involved which never sat well with him, and now this.

Harry sighed as they rushed down the front steps, Hagrid's hut coming into view. A smile played across his face. It didn't have to be a whole summer's wait for Harry to be happy at seeing that old hut again. But that was not their destination. They were headed for the Quidditch pitch, determined to find Hermione before they had to depart for the meeting at headquarters.

They had walked only a short distance more when the giant lollipop goal posts were in clear view. The flags at the top of the stands were billowing in high winds. In fact, it was a rather windy day on ground level as well, Harry noted feeling his robes flutter.

There was movement just above the horizon. He could see it better now that he was focusing on it. His Seeker eyes easily followed the silhouettes against the pink-red sky. There was a little joy in seeing the flyers. He'd always had the best of times playing during dusk with the Weasleys, so to see this felt nostalgic.

The two dark figures zoomed back and forth, up and down, in and out. They were pulling rather dangerous stunts. Harry's eyes widened as he saw flashes of red, then blue, then green light fly precariously close to the front figure. It seemed as though the second person was trailing, or mimicking the movements of the first.

Without warning, at least that's what it seemed like to Harry, a silver bolt struck the fore flyer's broom, or perhaps even the person. It must have been the broom, for the next moment the person reacted in a manner that shocked both boys into a dead halt. Only someone who was completely unharmed could maneuver in such a way.

They stared transfixed, as the person on the ruined broom no sooner began to fall than turn about and seem to gesture with their hand at the other person. The second person shot out to the first. In no time, both flyers were situated on one broom and riding no slower or sluggish for it. In fact, the new situation proved more tactful as one person flew and the other deflected each spell sent their way.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "I've never seen anything like it."

No sooner had Harry agreed than the two of them set of at a dash to meet to two stunt flyers. It never even crossed their minds that Malfoy could have logically been one of them. Not even Harry was could hope to pull such a move off without killing himself the first few tries, and Malfoy was years behind Harry. Beside that, both of them were overly excited to get down to the scene of all the action to think clearly.

When they finally burst onto the grass of the pitch, slightly dimmed from no direct sunlight, they were met with the sight of a third party. The two flyers were circling the pitch one last time as they slowly descended to the ground. Harry recognized the third member right away, Moody. Auror extraordinaire, the man was out of retirement for the sole purpose of aiding the light side in the war.

Regardless of the fact that Moody had never actually been their professor in their fourth year, everyone still addressed him as such.

"Professor!" Harry chorused as he and Ron came to a stop in front of him. "What's going on?" he asked, only slightly out of breath.

"Over time, that's what," Grumbled Moody, a little annoyed at being interrupted, but also giving exception for the boy-who-lived. Now that he thought about it, there was an unscheduled meeting tonight anyway, so they'd have to continue another time. "Okay you two!" he shouted at the two flyers, who hovered nearby. "We'll call it a night, we have to get going!"

At his orders the two on the broom descended right beside Moody. Harry raised an eyebrow at the odd positioning they were in. Though they'd flown like one person, they appeared almost comical now.

They were both donned in slate grey robes, hoods over their heads. The one on the rear, most likely the one who had latched on during a short fall, was significantly larger than the other. Seeing the size of the one in the front made him wonder if the smaller person's weight would have made any difference, which would answer why there didn't seem a sluggish reaction from the broom.

The robes worn by the one in front were far too large and hung baggy and folding all over. The hood came down over their nose, though it was hard to see any face as it was buried against the chest of the other. The one in the back, a man from his size, which was equal to Harry's, faced front like any normal rider. But, the other smaller person, who could have been the younger of the Creevey brothers, faced backwards, holding not the broom but the other person. It was the oddest arrangement either Harry or Ron had ever seen.

Standing up and dismounting, the man had his back to Harry and Ron, while shielding the other out of better sight. There seemed a sudden reluctance in the tall one now that he was off the broom. They noticed how even on the ground the small one in large robes remained glued to the other. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up as his subconscious started shouting what this scene closely resembled.

"Moody," came a gruff voice, that almost reminded them of Malfoy's, but that was impossible since neither of these two flyers could possibly be the ferret. "You'd best restrain those two, or I won't dare show face!"

"Nonsense," Moody snapped. "Hurry up and come along, we'll be late if we delay any longer. And, you might do something about the timid cat," he said, directing some sort of annoyance at the smaller one.

They must have missed something from earlier.

An audible sigh reached their ears. Then, as if deciding the least amount of pain would be wrought from pulling the bandage quickly, the tall one pulled down his hood, revealing his unmistakable blonde hair.

Harry and Ron watch in disbelief as the silver blonde Slytherin placed his hands a top the other's head and pet it slightly. "Granger," he said forcefully, but with no malicious sneer or contempt. "Be good," he spoke as though he was lecturing a new pet on when to behave.

The small, still hidden flyer let go and stood back. Hood still covering much of her face, shoulder seams hanging near the elbows, sleeves draped nearer to the ground than to the wrist, and mismatched belt tied around a slender waist, she just stood.

"For Merlin's sake, couldn't you have dressed the kitten in something else?" growled Moody.

Malfoy turned on the man who was at least an inch shorter, though Moody could have taken him in a heartbeat, and he glared. "This was the best there was, trust me. Would you rather she wore that hospital gown?"

Moody snorted, turning to Malfoy, oblivious to the incredulous stares and gaping mouths of Harry and Ron. "Humph," the old auror sounded in discontent. "Gown or no. It's what's under that robe I'm complaining about. She looks ridiculous and it's not the least bit maneuverable enough for an auror."

Harry and Ron had definitely missed something.

Moody seemed to have lost interest in the petty argument, so he turned and began limping toward the exit of the pitch.

Malfoy turned towards Harry and Ron, who weren't angry at Malfoy right now since they were too busy trying to get their minds to accept that it had been ferret boy up there flying like that.

"Hex me, and Moody will have something to do about it," the blonde sneered at them, secretly wanting nothing but civil terms of not killing each other. He took a couple steps following Moody when he stopped abruptly, raised a hand and said, "Lower the hood and come along."

The other flyer, who had remained rooted in their ridiculous attire, lifted hands up to the hood and tried to grasp it through the material covering their hands.

While his attention was on the masked rider, Harry could have sworn he saw a smile play on Malfoy's lips for a brief second, out of the corner of his eye.

"Come here," Draco motioned to the other.

In a movement too sudden for one wearing such long clothing Granger stumbled forward in a mad dash as she always did to reach him. Not two steps in, she trip. She would have fallen too, had he not been swift enough to rush forth and grab her. Not even caring that she'd fallen, she wrapped her arms about him and hugged him close.

Reaching down he gathered up much of the hem and bunched it until the folds were raised to reveal her feet. "Stand up," he commanded.

She made to let go and stood on her own.

"Hold on to the extra material when you walk," he continued in his ordering.

Again she listened. Then he reached up and pushed the hood back before turning and muttering for her to follow.

Almost skipping along she hastened to keep up with his long legs.

Dumbfounded, Harry and Ron watched. Ron had felt a bit faint when the hood had been lowered on the other flyer. Revealing their very own Hermione. Even though Malfoy had called her Granger, it was something neither would have believed unless they had seen it.

Madame Pomfrey had said those two might be together and she had said they might be out on the pitch. But, she had _not _mentioned anything about the two of them being all master and slave like, in some sickly twisted relationship and acting the part of two stunt flyers.

Ron reached over to Harry and pinched him. "Ow!" Harry yelped. "What they hell was that for?"

"Nope, not dreamin'," Ron mumbled to himself, still in a dazed and slightly faint state. He followed numbly after the other three, since he was working on autopilot and knew he had a meeting to get to.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

**Questions and Answers**

The meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was being held specifically to answer and resolve the situation of Hermione Granger. It was general knowledge among the members that the young girl had suffered an attack, and while she survived in a rather dramatic fashion, her parents had died. Now, the shocking news that only a few had known about was that she was in some sort of state of denial or shock.

Professor Snape shifted uneasily in his seat at the large kitchen table. He had just arrived from his other meeting with Voldemort. The only relief he found in explaining the Dark Lord's plans was that Granger and her knights were not there to hear it.

Everyone was hushed when Dumbledore asked him to report. All eyes fixed on him, he didn't like it, but there was nothing to be done about it except get it over as quickly as possible. He much preferred his private meetings with Dumbledore, who didn't have that glint of mistrust at his words about Voldemort.

"The Dark Lord has become rather focused with the events of the attack. Going by what he saw in Lestrange's mind and that of several muggles who arrived on the scene before we did. He has asked me to watch and follow Miss Granger's every move. It is no longer his desire to kill her. He would rather," he cleared his throat, "use her for his cause."

The silence remained. Everyone seemed shocked by the news except for Dumbledore. Just when it seemed like the Headmaster would begin speaking, explaining Voldemort's angle and more to them, there was a loud knock at the door.

Tonks and Snape stood hastily, wands drawn and ready.

"It's Mad Eye," came a gruff and unmistakable voice from the other side.

Tonks walked to the door and let him in. Outside in the hall Moody stood leading the group of young members. "I see you've brought half the members with you," she commented with a smile.

There seemed a tension in the room once everyone had settled down.

Fred and George almost began laughing at the sight Hermione and Malfoy made. While blondie had taken his seat next to Moody, the timid mouse stood near the doorway, lingering. Her eyes looked at everyone with obvious fear and hesitancy.

Of course each member did all they could to remain impassive and not hurt Hermione's feelings, but they couldn't help but smile as they all fought back laughter. The robes she wore were undoubtedly Malfoy's, as they seemed to match his own, and looked most awkward on her.

"Hermione dear," began Mrs. Weasley softly, she too was holding back laughter. "Why don't you take off those robes, it's terribly warm in here, and have a seat."

Having been address as 'Hermione' by Harry and Ron often enough on the way there, she seemed to have comprehended that this too was her name. Upon hearing the motherly woman speak, her head shot up with utter terror written all over her face.

Her reactions to being around another person aside from Draco had been bad enough, but now she was in a room full of strange faces. She wanted nothing more than to dart away and hide. She would have too, had Draco not been present. Not being able to run away and hide, she did the next best thing. She dropped the folds of the robe she'd been holding and drew the hood up over her head, covering most of her face. Bowing her head down, she remained hidden from view.

"She's gone bonkers," Fred commented to George. Together they began laughing, unable to control it anymore.

Their laughter seemed to trigger a couple others who were too close to the brink to contain it. Remus, Tonks, and Arthur began a short fit. They were trying too hard to hold it in to really enjoy it, but that didn't matter.

Fred and George fell silent upon the death glare Ron gave them. The twins knew it would be a sad day for anyone who angered Ron enough over either Harry or Hermione.

While each member seemed keen on watching Hermione, no one seemed inclined to do anything, except for one. Draco stood back up and walked over to Hermione.

This ended all laughter abruptly, as each of them knew of the rivalry and animosity between the opposing groups, which were Draco's posse and the golden trio.

Once the blonde Slytherin reached Hermione, he waited for her to stir. Gently, having come to terms with the girl being in his charge, he grasped the robes and tugged up slightly. It was rather warm in there, even he was boiling hot, and his robes were hanging open.

Complying immediately, Hermione untied the belt and lift her arms to let him pull the cloth over her head.

Back still turned to the rest of the group, Draco growled fiercely, "Not a word." Standing back, he walked to his seat.

Moody's good eye rolled as he was resigned to seeing the girl in those clothes once again. It would seem there really weren't any alternative clothes to dress her in. She wore a pair of black pants, folded at least three times and still falling to the floor, and a forest green t-shirt that hung completely off her right shoulder. The shirt was partly tucked into the pants, which were being held up by another belt that tied in a knot for lack of a hole far enough up the dragon hide band to do any good.

Mrs. Weasley was so uncomfortable seeing this that she stood and bustled over to the stove, putting on a teakettle. Likewise, Harry and Ron were looking anywhere but at Hermione. During the short trip over here they'd become rather upset with Hermione herself, concluding that shocked or not, there was no excuse for hanging all over a Slytherin, especially Malfoy.

Now that she could be seen more clearly, no hood to hide under, most eyes were drawn to her not just because of her unusual clothing. Fred and George, Charlie and Bill, even Remus and Snape found that they were slightly enthralled with the image she portrayed. A wild mane of curls falling down her back and shoulders, her features delicate. This hadn't been the young witch they'd known from before.

Just as she began toeing her way over to Draco, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I believe I have a solution to this problem."

Everyone looked to the older wizard, some of them having to shake off the slight daze and tear their eyes from Hermione.

Once Hermione had settled in by pushing her way under Draco's arm and leaning in close, Draco turned his attention to Dumbledore, who was looking right at him.

"I'll need your help Draco. Hermione won't willingly let me perform any spells on her, so you have to get her to let me."

Draco quirked a brow, the way the Headmaster was going on made it seem like it would be difficult. "Okay. Easier done than said, I suppose," he agreed coolly. "Granger, go to Dumbledore and let him do whatever spell he needs to do on you."

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed closer.

"Be good," his stern voice commanded. 'Merlin, shoot me!' he thought at the same time. By the nights end his reputation for the past six years would be in shambles.

Again, listening to Draco, she stood and walked over to Dumbledore, who smiled reassuringly. Hermione glanced back at Draco, before giving tacit permission by bowing her head and not moving.

Dumbledore was still seated, so he stood up before Hermione. Placing one hand on her head, he closed his eyes and remained silent for a few moments. Finally he opened his eyes again and spoke, "Yes, it's as I thought. Well, no matter, easily fixed." Raising his wand he let the tip fall an inch before her head and incanted, "Memoria Teneo"

Nothing appeared to have happened, but the second he said the words Hermione's head shot up and she stared fiercely at the Headmaster before her. Her eyes darted back and forth between his, while her brain worked a mile a minute sorting out what had happened. She turned to face the rest of the room.

As if taking down notes in class or writing down the numbers required to solve the problem, she began to verbally note the facts. "A meeting of the Order," she mumbled, "The attack, the Death Eaters, now I'm here." She turned back to the Headmaster. "I'm alive, but how?"

He looked gravely at her, not even relishing in the fact that he had finally solved the puzzle. "That is what we are here to discuss. Please take a seat." He gestured at the only empty spot, the one she had left beside Malfoy.

She stared at the spot, then at Malfoy. "What is he doing here?" she asked heatedly, with complete confusion gracing her features.

Why in all the world would Malfoy be at an Order meeting? She didn't have much time to contemplate things however, as she was crushed in a sandwich like manner between Harry and Ron.

They had known their Hermione was back the second they saw her eyes flash with that determined look of trying to figure a problem out. Now, having heard the tone in her voice when she spoke about Malfoy they had become so happy they couldn't sit back any longer.

"I can't breath," she attempted to gasp out, muffled beneath the two of them. She knew they were glad she hadn't died, but surely they'd known she was alive for some time, as it would seem _some time_ had progressed since the attack. How much time and why didn't she remember were the questions she wanted answered most.

Finally standing back, the two of them looked down on Hermione. She was flustered for only a second before she saw the slight gleam of watered emerald and blue eyes. Harry and Ron were truly upset over something, which meant it was her job to console them. So, she reached up and wrapped her arms around both their necks, which she managed only on her tiptoes.

"Before I'm sick, would you three please sit down? This is an official meeting, not a zoo. Grope each other in your spare time!" Snape barked, only to receive a malevolent glare from Potter and Weasley.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "If you would please take your seats, we have much to discuss."

The three of them squeezed in, Hermione at the center. The two boys placed protective arms around her, still basking in the glorious light that came from having their bookworm girl back to normal again. What was better was that she didn't seem to remember any of her disgusting behavior from before.

Mrs. Weasley sat down as well, after placing a hot cup of tea in front of Hermione, who smile appreciatively up at the woman she'd come to think of as a second mother.

Something clicked, triggered from thinking about Mrs. Weasley being like her mother. Now, she recalled what she had known the whole time but failed to linger on long enough to have it really register. Her parents were dead. 'Wait! Maybe not. If I'm alive, then they might be too!' Desperation like she'd never known before over took her. "Sir!" she exclaimed, looking with eyes so full of hope at Dumbledore.

He seemed to read her mind, for the twinkle fell from behind his spectacles. She hesitated at seeing this, but didn't accept it as a sign of loss. "My parents. If I'm alive, then they…" she suddenly found the room terribly cold and her throat was so tight. Her eyes burned, she didn't know why she was choking on the last few words. They just wouldn't come out. There were tears swimming before her vision, blurring all images, before Dumbledore even answered her.

"I am most grieved to tell you that they did not fair the same fate as you my dear. Rest assured they did not suffer."

'Suffer,' she thought about the meaning of that word. Thinking back, flashes of their bodies coming before her eyes. If that hadn't been suffering, then what was? There was so much blood, so many wounds. That dagger, that damn dagger, it had killed them. No, the Death Eaters had killed them.

Words echoed in her mind, 'They didn't have to die.' She held back a sob, convulsing slightly as her lungs demanded air. _She_ had killed them, indirectly she'd been the cause of their demise.

The arms protecting her tightened. "Sir, might we be excused?" Harry asked, reeling with concern for Hermione, who had apparently just realized her parents had been killed.

Hermione shivered. It was hard to tell which was causing her to jostle, shivering or sobbing. Only a few tears escaped before she began coughing violently. It seemed to be the harshest battle she had ever fought was right then. Demanding control over her own body at this moment was a struggle.

After a fit of coughing, she straightened up. 'Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!' she chanted over and over in her mind as she fought to keep her emotions under wraps. Having always been subject to the typical emotional patterns of a teenage girl, she had never found fault in crying when the situation condoned such a reaction.

Now, however, she couldn't have felt more foolish or childish at her short display of weakness. There was a pride in her that wouldn't let it happen, even though her chest still burned with the need to sob uncontrollably. If she broke down now, she feared she might never be back to normal.

Still fighting, a light sparked in her mind. Another thought occurred to her. If she broke down now, she would waste precious time. It would surely be weeks before she'd stop crying if she started. Her time should be spent exacting revenge. Lestrange would pay, so would each and every one of them that had been there that night.

Thoughts of revenge seemed to do the trick, for her breathing returned to normal and her eyes stopped leaking.

"No Harry," she voiced evenly and calmly, if only a bit too cool for what was normal. "There is much we need to discuss. I for one would like to know more about what happened, and why Malfoy is here."

Across the table Draco watched the display of emotions pass over Hermione. Anguish was the only word he could think to describe it. She was feeling so much anguish from it all that even he felt prone to feel it. But, she struggled so valiantly to master it all that even though she was the insufferable Gryffindor princess, he came to find respect for her.

Admittedly, even he would have found some difficulty in remaining cool and collected in her situation. He never would have thought it possible for an emotional Gryffindor to accomplish such a feat. He was pulled from his reverie as his name rolled off her lips. Yes, tonight his official recognition would be made.

Dumbledore spent a few moments staring into Hermione's dark chocolate colored eyes, seeing a spark of angry revenge in them. Though she might be young, he would have to settle for the fact that she could take care of herself and be an adult during these troubled times. "Very well, we will begin."

The old wizard ignored the slightly surprised glances at having called the meeting to a beginning, when it had already begun. They had expected him to retell what they were just informed from Snape's report. However, being the elite group they were, everyone caught on that Dumbledore was keeping this information away from the younger members. "Hermione, you don't remember how you managed to survive?"

Calmly, she thought back, it was all a blur. Lestrange lunged at her and everything went dark. "No sir, it's all a blank."

"What about the passed day?" A mildly amused twinkle came to his eyes as Draco paled and Harry and Ron squeezed her tightly.

"Ow! Harry, Ron. Lighten up, will you?" They had squeezed a bit too much. "No," she answered Dumbledore. "I was going to ask, how long since the attack?"

"Not more than two days. You seem to have been in shock and woken up with your memory locked away." This had been his first guess and could have been taken care of earlier, but he hadn't collected all the facts until recently.

She nodded, accepting his answer as though it had been among the top three of her own possible conclusions.

Draco settled, more than happy to leave behind the sappy, clingy, kitten of a Gryffindor. Regardless of the slightly empty feeling he now had, his side vacantly cold while he watched dumb and dumber hold onto her, he was still more content to have the lioness back. Potter and Weasley sent glares his way, so he tore his gaze from Hermione's face and continued to listen to Dumbledore.

"I have come across some rather interesting findings. While the question of your previous state was solved easily, I didn't know how to explain what had happened during the attack."

Every person who had witnessed the event for themselves shifted uneasily. Part of them wondered if what they'd seen wasn't just some crazy dream. They were all curious as to what Dumbledore had found out.

"Have you ever heard of the Angelus?" he asked, more to Hermione than anyone else.

Thinking over the term, she couldn't think of anything familiar. "No."

"I didn't think so. There isn't much you could find, even when you know what you're looking for." He thought back to his old friend Garon, the historian, who had taxed out all his resources to gather every shred of information. "Indeed, there isn't much known about them."

"Them?" Hermione asked attentively, just as if she were in class.

"They are a race, a wizarding race, much like the Veela." He cleared his throat, preparing to divulge what he'd learned. "The Angelus are actually something of a distant cousin to Veela. They receive their name from the wings they possess."

A dawning understanding came over a few of the members. They now stared at Hermione.

"You, Hermione, are an Angelus," Dumbledore stated.

Her brows furrowed, looking at Dumbledore like he must have had one too many sips of fire whiskey. "That's not possible. I'm muggleborn."

"Yes, both your parents were muggles." He paused for a second, hoping he hadn't struck a cord with her at the mentioning of her parents. She made no sign of caring over the matter, so he continued, "However, that does not mean that somewhere along the way there isn't wizarding blood, Angelus blood. I'm sure you know the vagueness of the understanding we have on what produces a wizard or witch. After all, did you not accept being a witch when your parents were muggles?"

She sighed, looking wearier for all her years than Dumbledore did for his. "I think I've heard enough." 'Could things get any more complicated?' she wondered briefly.

"Yes, of course." He smiled acceptingly and produced a book, small and ancient looking, from thin air. "You'll find what you might seek to know in this." As it was, he hadn't planned on detailing all the aspects of the Angelus to Hermione or the rest of the members present. Having her read on her own was for the best.

Hermione stood and retrieved the book from Dumbledore, before sitting back down and giving him a look that asked for the rest of the meeting to end quickly.

"The only other matter to be discussed is Mr. Malfoy here," he pressed on, seeming to catch on to Hermione's need to leave. "As unwilling to accept it as some of you might be," He glanced at Harry and Ron, "young Draco here is as much a member of the Order as anyone else."

Harry and Ron showed no signs of change at his words. Everyone else had been well aware of the matter, except Hermione, but she was too preoccupied at the moment to indulge the energy consuming bickering they usually did.

Draco kept his emotions hidden underneath his mask, no longer caring that the cat was out of the bag.

"Is there anything you'd like to add, Draco?" Dumbledore asked.

Raising his eyebrows, Draco glared coolly at the old man. "No. It isn't the business of everyone to know my reasoning." His comment left no room for argument.

It was clear he was not about to start gabbing over his seemingly sudden change of pace. Being Lucius' son, it had been a logical assumption he'd become a Death Eater and support the Dark Lord. Not to mention the obvious animosity between him and Harry, which seemed to make it factual that he'd be backing Voldemort.

Now however, he sat there at the table in the middle of a meeting for the faction that defied and sought to destroy Voldemort, calmly as though it was the most natural thing in the world.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

**Sweet Dreams**

Unofficially, the meeting had ended and most members had left.

Remus went back to his study, Fred and George to their shop, Tonks was still in the middle of an assignment, so she left in a rush. Bill and Charlie hung around for a little bit, casting glances at Hermione every so often, before going back to their respective jobs and roles in the wizarding world.

Outside headquarters, they all carried on as actors, acting as though Voldemort wasn't a threat and the Order of the Phoenix didn't exist.

Ministry business called Mr. Weasley away, while Mrs. Weasley bustled about preparing a late dinner. Snape had excused himself before all others, feeling most uncomfortable in any surroundings other than a dungeon.

Dumbledore sat bemused, watching as Harry, Ron, and Hermione chatted away, and Draco and Moody were occupied by a deep discussion.

For the past few minutes Draco had been looking rather livid and talking heatedly with his new mentor. Seeming to have ended their debate, Moody growled, "It's final boy!"

This seemed to catch the attention of everyone in the room. Mrs. Weasley turned back to the soup pot and began stirring the contents again, more content to do it herself and escape the growing tension than to use magic.

"Dumbledore, I have another matter to discuss," Moody said, causing Draco to sneer. "Oh, don't be that way," he grumbled with a nudge to Draco's shoulder.

Leaning forward in a show of apprehension, Dumbledore waited.

"Well, as you know, Malfoy's training is coming along smoothly enough. But there was something that happened earlier that, uh," His magical eye swiveled in Hermione's direction, "caught my interest," he finished.

"Go on," Dumbledore encouraged, smiling as he waited for Moody to mention what he guessed the auror might.

"Quite frankly, that girl has moves like no other. She kept pace with Malfoy damn near the whole time. Granted, I wasn't giving her anything to dodge, but her reaction to his fall." He paused, seeming to realize he'd need to explain further since Dumbledore hadn't actually been there. "I managed to get a hit in, the broom anyway. Malfoy was falling not a second before he used his most handy resource." There almost seemed to be pride in Moody's voice as he recounted the event. "And this one here," he gestured to Hermione, "the kitten anyway, obeyed him quicker than I could send my next spell out. I've never seen a more suited pair."

"Suited!" Ron nearly choked on his freshly served soup. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Quiet, Weasley," Moody said sternly, not liking any interruptions when he was trying to develop anew edge for their side. "She has all the makings Dumbledore. Not to mention, if we trained them together. It'd be like Caster and Galloway."

Harry and Ron were now very concerned. From the sounds of it, Hermione might not be rid of Malfoy for good like they had hoped. But since they were still severely lacking in the information department, they'd need to play along and not oppose Moody until they understood more.

"Caster and Galloway?" Harry asked, sensing a stiffness in Hermione posture now.

"You're joking right?" Hermione burst out. "What happened before my mind was set straight?" she asked, disregarding the instinctive feeling of wariness she got from Harry and Ron.

Harry nudged Hermione in the side, demanding an explanation.

Complying readily, as though they were back in class and she was explaining something for him, she spoke quickly, "Gregory Caster and Connor Galloway were the two best aurors of all time. They were partners. Somehow, it hasn't been soundly explained, they seemed able to read each others' minds and work as though they were one person. They were unbeatable, literally. Not a single target even came close. They were best friends, who died in retirement together. In fact, their deaths were only minutes apart, as if one couldn't go on with out the other."

"That's exactly what I'm on about, you see!" Moody shouted so lively that Mrs. Weasley sloshed some soup from the last bowl she was setting down for herself. "She has brains, and if she's trained Dumbledore, we'll have a greater advantage than we might have hoped for."

Dumbledore nodded, only too happy that Moody had asked this of him, though it wasn't his final decision to make. Hermione's abilities as an Angelus were exactly what Voldemort was after, and exactly what they needed to use against him. He had planned on asking Moody to train yet another student. As it was, he'd already had to push to get just Draco in the experienced auror's charge.

However, their discussion would be between the four of them, so as to rule out any biased influences. This would have to be Hermione's decision, not Harry or Ron's. There was also the factor of Hermione having enough to deal with at the moment. "We will talk about this tomorrow. During Draco's training, we can meet on the pitch, so as not to deter the schedule too much."

Moody nodded approvingly. Content with the positive sound of things and glad that there was a mutual understanding of how precious their training time was.

Several attempted arguments later everyone was dismissed. Moody and Malfoy made their exits. The old auror was visibly ignoring the seething glares sent his way by the blonde. As they moved out of sight muffled arguing could be heard.

It wasn't until Hermione made to stand up that she realized she had no place to go. Where was she going to stay? Surly, she wouldn't be passed of to her next of kin? She wouldn't allow that, since she'd already managed to get her mother and father killed. She didn't need to have Aunt Josephine finding out her sister and brother-in-law were murdered, her niece was a witch, and that she was going to die next simply for knowing Hermione.

Shaking her head slightly, knowing such thoughts were anything but productive, she sighed and rubbed her face. It suddenly felt like the weight of the world was pushing her down.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder, drawing her in close.

Harry had seen the strain on Hermione and couldn't help but sympathize with her. He had lost Sirius little over a year ago, and it hadn't gotten any easier. He had only become used to the emptiness. Now they both shared a vendetta for Lestrange.

Harry's greater concern for Hermione was that she was no murderer. Their Hermione was too pure and kindhearted to be something like that, even in times of war. Neither Ron nor himself could see her killing someone even in self-defense.

Long ago, Harry had become resigned to his fate of having at least one death bloody his hands. Sadly, somewhere along the lines he had also come to accept that there would likely be more than one life ended by him. While he had yet become a killer, it was written in the stars.

While he couldn't help but become tainted, Hermione could. Both he and Ron would see that she never had to make such a decision. An angel would wither with the deeds of the devil. They wouldn't let that happen.

Ron said his goodbyes. Even though he wanted to remain here with his friends, he left with Mrs. Weasley, promising to visit soon. It was summer after all, and while they would like to stay together at all times, they usually spent this holiday off on their own.

Ready to fall asleep standing up, Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and leaned back against Harry. Comforting arms held her, reminding her she still had her friends.

Harry placed a light kiss on the top her head before asking, "Are you staying here?" He was slightly hopeful. Company would be nice.

"I don't know where I'm supposed to go," she replied before a small cough drew them from their own little world, where nothing else existed but them.

Dumbledore stood near the door way looking expectantly. "Miss Granger, I think it would be best if you spent a night or two at Hogwarts. We have much more to discuss and I think the school is better fit to see to your needs at the moment." It wasn't a suggestion open for argument, not that Hermione would have, since it seemed more than a nice idea.

With a quick squeeze of Harry's hand she headed towards the door, but she was abruptly pulled back.

Harry grabbed her hand again. "Wait," he said walking to the other side of the table and picking something up off the bench. "Put your arms up."

"Why?" she asked confused.

He gave her a look that seemed to convey the message that she should just humor him. So she did and was immediately engulfed in a sea of soft material. It was a dark grey robe, far too big for her. It must have been Harry's, it was his size. There was an alluring scent to it, which made her eyelids droop in the pleasure of breathing it in.

"Thanks," she said, grateful he had thought to lend it to her. She'd return it to him later of course. Wearing the all too big cloak, she drew near even with Dumbledore and followed him out into the sitting room.

A short floo later she was back at school, a temporary connection that was untraceable. It was curious how Dumbledore had not followed her, simply seen her off.

Standing straight she looked around her, not recognizing the room at all, but it was undoubtedly somewhere within Hogwarts. It was a common room, but for which house? Certainly not Gryffindor, and if the other houses had common rooms like their own then it would have been obvious by the color scheme.

The rug was a pale regal manor design of gold and silver. It was soft under her bare feet. A large light grey couch sat in front of the fireplace, with a matching loveseat beside it. Several bookshelves adorned the walls. Though, she normally would have been overly excited at this, she was too tired to care. There were tapestries, beautifully woven with intricate patterns and pictures.

Three portraits above the fireplace mantle supplied her with an answer as to where she was. A large frame contained the moving images of the Gryffindor lion and Slytherin snake, while two matching but smaller ones hung to the left and right containing the Hufflepuff badger and Ravenclaw raven.

'Of course,' she thought, 'I should have known.'

She was Head Girl. Who else would they have decided upon? A near perfect record, with the exception of running off to help save the day a few times with Harry and Ron. Prefect since her fourth year and top grades since her first year. More than likely, Malfoy was Head Boy. He had the second to best grades, right behind her, and after tonight's circus act, she wouldn't be surprised if everyone declared their favoritism for the git.

There was a staircase leading up, to their bedrooms most likely, and another couple doors which lead off of the common room. Through one was a small kitchen, which was odd since Head Girl and Boy were expected to be in attendance of every meal. The other was their bathroom. Much like the prefects bathroom, only now restricted to the access of two people.

She sighed heavily resigned to take a soothing bath simply because one couldn't help but do that upon seeing the large pool sized tub. Besides, she felt grimy and in desperate need of scrubbing herself clean.

The sound of water pouring into the gigantic basin reverberated off the porcelain tiling. Sweet scents filled the air, having chosen random handles to dispense the bubbles. She couldn't tell if it was lavender or something closer to honey. She didn't care really. At the moment there was another scent that she indulged in.

Not only had the robe she'd been wearing smelled like cologne that was almost sweet, but there was also a hint of cedar or perhaps pine, something like wood anyway.

All the scents were subtle and far from overbearing. This only made her want to smell it more, determined to place the scents. Not having enough to go by she almost pouted.

It was stronger on the clothes she was wearing, which she almost slapped herself on the head for not even noticing until now. She looked absolutely ridiculous. Why hadn't Harry at least charmed them to fit her better?

'Unless…' A thought struck her. She searched the hem for the distinct marking. It was there. These were tailored clothes, designed for their wearer and resistant to all charms altering their size. 'Since when does Harry wear tailored clothes?' she wondered.

The water had finished pouring and steam was rising just above the surface over the bubbles.

Having discarded the clothes in a neat pile she smiled as she saw another set of fresh clothes, just as she would have worn if they'd been her own, in a crisp pile on the vanity table. The House Elves were always on top of their game.

It irked her that she'd lost everything. As if losing her parents wasn't enough, she'd lost all her possessions. She couldn't freeload off of the Headmaster and stay at Hogwarts. She'd need to see what affairs were in order as far as money went. For now though, she could spend a few days here.

'And a few hours soaking in the bath,' she surmised, as the hot liquid soothed her to the bone.

After scrubbing her hair and body furiously, almost making her skin raw, she climbed out and toweled off. The clothes left for her were a simple set of black cotton sweat pants, a comfortable white t-shirt, and most thankfully a set of undergarments. The pants were baggy. The thin summer material hung loosely over her legs, held by an elastic band at her waist. The t-shirt was well sized for her frame, though the thin cotton seemed to soak up the water from her hair fast.

Refreshing as the bath had been, she was tired and more than ready for bed. As she made her way out of the bathroom she paused a moment to scoop up Harry's borrowed clothes. She left the shirt and pants on the chair, knowing the elves would actually be happy to wash them for her. But, she kept the robe with her.

It was hard to explain why she did this. There was something almost comforting about it, just holding it close. Perhaps it was like having her friend there to console her in her grief.

Her hair was still quite wet, but for the past year it didn't become frizzy even if she let it air dry. Back in the common room, she looked from the stairway to the now roaring fire in the fireplace.

Summer or not, these stone rooms could become chilled even in the warmest of weather. Besides, the kitchen at headquarters had been practically boiling and she had still been freezing. So, while a comfortable bed seemed like a nice idea she found more appeal in the lush suede couch before the fire.

Practically collapsing into the soft cushions, Hermione lay on her stomach a moment before turning on her side and curling up. She pulled one of the square pillows to her and rested her head on it. Then she pulled the robe over her, just letting it rest on top. Fisting one of the sleeves she placed her hand up near her cheek, holding the material close enough to catch the comforting scent every few breaths. Shortly after, she fell asleep.

* * *

Drip, drip…drip, drip…drip, drip…

'What is that?' she wondered.

Drip, drip…

Rain was pouring down in sheets against the window pane, but inside a small drip echoed through the dark room. Hermione groaned, the sound of water was supposed to lull a person sleep, not wake them up.

Then another sound caught her ears. It sounded like a sniffle, someone was crying. The sobs were echoing more than was natural, even with vacant stonewalls and high ceiling room.

Her eyes fluttered open as the echoed sobs continued. She sat up in her bed, and clambered about the girls' sixth year dormitory. There was a familiar bluish tint to all the shadows of the room, as only a small amount of moon light made it through the windows. It was a rather cloudy night anyway, testimony by the pouring rain.

The sobbing was so forlorn and hollow. Hermione couldn't help but wander in the direction of it with intent to comfort the source.

Through the door and into the Gryffindor common room, it was odd how even the red color was diminished to a cool tone in the dark. A form sat huddled in one of the armchairs that Harry, Ron, and herself often occupied.

She approached quietly, wondering how she could still hear that same dripping noise when she was all the way downstairs. Slowly, she reached a hand out and touched the shoulder of the sobbing girl, who had her head buried in her arms with her knees drawn up tight.

The girl gasped in surprise and looked up, causing Hermione to gasp in turn. It was her. The sobbing girl was her, Hermione.

Face streaked and stained with tears, the girl who was her own split image didn't seem to notice that they looked alike. Instead, sad eyes looked imploringly. "Please," she sniffed, "Where is he?"

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. "Where is who?"

"I need to find him. I've been looking everywhere." She sobbed again, her face cringing as she tried to speak at the same time. "He was right there in that one room with all those strange people. It was that man, the older one who made him go away." More tears fell.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione had no idea what she on about. She tried a different tactic. "What's your name?" If the other answered 'Hermione', then she didn't know what she would do.

"Granger," the other said as though it didn't matter. "But, please, do you know where he is? I was good and listened to him, but then that man cast a spell and everything went dark. I was here, at the castle. But, then it started to rain so hard and storm. I tried checking the large field, but no one was flying today. And it's so cold, so very cold, I can't start a fire."

"Who is it you're looking for?" Hermione's mind was running so fast trying to process so much.

"Draco, I'm looking for Draco. Where is he?" She started crying uncontrollably, rocking back and forth as she held her knees.

Just watching the other girl's display caused Hermione tear up too. Nothing was making any sense. Was she dreaming? Yes, she must be. But there was something about the other's words that didn't sit well with her.

Being the clever witch that she was, Hermione's logical side took charge. "When you said a room with strangers, who did you see?" she asked, hardly supporting the idea she had about what the girl's answer would be.

It seemed like the girl was compliant enough, as she tried to answer even through her crying. "There was the boy with the scar, Harry, and the one with red hair, Ron. They call me 'Hermione'. There were others who had hair like Ron's. Twelve total, I think. Two of them were the same, they might just be one then. The old man with white hair, he's the one who sent me here. And Moody, he was with Draco and me when we flew."

Hermione was wide eyed. She wanted to kick herself. She should have demanded to know what had gone on exactly, since it would seem she'd been awake and moving about without remembering any of it for the passed day.

If only she had known more. Now, even though she had her theories about this girl, crazy as they might be, she couldn't be certain about anything. "Will you be here again?" she asked, not knowing what to do.

"I can't leave."

"I'm going to leave, but I'll come back. I'll try to find Malfoy," she promised, not certain any if what she'd said could be done. But she was unable to not help, since the girl seemed to be _her_.

"Ok, but can you make it stop raining? I can't stand it, it's leaking all over, and I haven't been able to stay dry. And it's so cold."

"I can't stop the rain," Hermione pointed out the obvious, wondering if someone so, well, clueless could possibly be her.

"Yes you can," the other replied with a conviction that sounded like she was surer of nothing else.

"Can I?" Hermione asked, uncertain as to whether she should lecture the girl on the science behind the weather.

"You made it rain in the first place. Please, could you stop it?"

"I didn't make it rain." Feeling like a two year denying something they didn't want to get in trouble for, she refuted the accusation.

"Yes, you did."

"How?" she conceded, knowing the girl would not relent.

Stiffly, the girl raised a hand and point to the arched cove that lead to the portrait hole. The cove was cast in shadow, eerie and seemingly too far away. "Through there you will see, the reason for the rain."

As though something had taken over her body, Hermione stood up and began walking to the door. Although she probably would have checked it out anyway, she didn't like having her feet take her there as if they were possessed. She also didn't like how dark everything became once she was in the small alcove.

Tentatively, she pushed the door, which was the back of the painting. Before she had even cracked it two inches, fingers grasped it from the other end and wrenched it open all the way. Next there were hands on her robes, pulling her through. Such, ghoulish hands, she had seen them somewhere before.

Out in the large hall, shadowed figures stood surrounding her mother and father. She wanted to run to them, but the person who had pulled her through held her in place. Trying to turn her head back, she was stopped as someone yanked a fist of her hair to keep her turned forward.

Suddenly her whole body was unable to move. All she could do was watch and cry out as tears streamed down her face. One blow after the other, the blade cut through her parents flesh too easily. There was so much blood. It covered the walls and floor.

Between her strangled cries for them to stop and insults shouted in fury, was laughter from the shadowed figures. Finally, as her parents lay in an unmoving heap and the dreaded truth dawned on her, a cold voice whispered harshly in her ear, "You killed them mud-blood." The voice clucked and put on a mock chastising tone. "Now, why did you have to go and do that?" Laughter followed.

Everything went dark.

* * *

"Granger!" yelled a stern voice. "Wake up."

In one fast motion, Hermione's eyes shot open and she sat up too soon for her own good. Her head was pounding now. Her throat was raw, as though she'd been yelling too much, and there was a familiar burning sensation in her eyes.

Tears had pooled down her cheeks and neck. She was still crying somewhat even now. It had happened all over again, only this time she stood idly by and watched.

Harry's robe was strewn to the floor. It looked twisted like she'd thrashed a bit before it fell. Part of her wanted to reach down and hold it close. Instead, she looked upon another figure, Malfoy. He stood beside her, having been the one to call her back.

"It's a wonder anyone got any sleep with you around, Granger," he said coldly, knowing full well why she might have had a particularly bad nightmare. She made no snappy retort like she usually would have. Instead, her frightened and tearful eyes just looked at him. He was reminded of her other self.

"I didn't mean to do it," she whispered hoarsely, looking at him as though he was the only person in the world who could forgive her.

He was taken aback by this, not knowing what to do. He sat down on the edge of the couch. Her eyes held his the whole time. "Do what?" he inquired, almost softly.

"Kill them," she choked out before sobbing.

"Are you daft? You didn't kill your parents," he replied, surprised that someone with her brains would have such an irrational idea.

Eyes staring forth in a daze, she confessed, "But I didn't save them." There was a scent, it was the same as the robes and clothes, only it was coming from Malfoy. Without thinking she leaned forward and held onto him, just as she would have done if he were Harry or Ron.

However, Draco was not Harry or Ron, far from in fact, and didn't know what to do. It was a repeat of the earlier situation, only now it was the real Granger. He sighed, doing the only thing he knew how to in such circumstances, he pat her back and pulled her into the position she seemed to have preferred before. Draco laid his head back against the couch and let Hermione cry a bit before falling asleep against him, tucked warmly under his arm.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

**Lustful Eyes**

Morning dawned on the grounds at Hogwarts. Clear blue skies, with a few white clouds spotted here and there. Warm rays of sunlight came from just above the forest's horizon, casting a long shadow behind a sole figure making its way down the front steps. The grass was still heavy with dew, dampening the hem of the early riser's long green cloak. Though it was summer, cool breezes swept the air, fresh and clean from the countryside.

Draco walked down onto the grounds, heading towards the Quidditch pitch. His thoughts had been trailing back to Hermione and the previous night, when he finally noticed the sun. It had already risen, well past dawn. 'Shit,' he thought as he began sprinting. He was late.

Moody would hang him, or take a leaf out of his imposture's book and turn him into a ferret. The wrath of the old auror was something to be feared, especially when said auror was the one barking orders and overseeing his training.

Why had he been so preoccupied thinking about the know-it-all anyway? She was hardly worth his time of day, and yet he had spent the night making sure she slept calmly. Now she distracted him even when she wasn't there.

* * *

Hermione woke late in the morning, stretching contently on the soft couch. The fire had long ago died out, since it was summer and the House elves didn't bother with stoking it. However, she remained warm. She was wrapped in a blanket, which she knew belonged to Malfoy from the same woodsy sweet fragrance it had.

If she weren't half asleep she'd slap herself for being so ignorant of everything. Why hadn't she noticed the up tight way Harry and Ron refused the mention anything about the last day? Why hadn't she taken the way Draco wouldn't make eye contact with her during the meeting as a sign of something more than shame at finally realizing his misdeeds for the last six years?

Though, she wasn't all too sure he had actually joined the good guys. There was much to be answered for, whether or not she wanted to know. Something had definitely happened between her and Malfoy. If not, then there was no explanation for last night's kind actions. Harry and Ron couldn't have done a better job than he had in consoling her, and he was supposed to despise her very existence.

Rolling off the couch, she sauntered into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror she saw her eyes were slightly bloodshot and her hair was in tangles.

Washing her face with cold water seemed to wake her up as well as any espresso could, not to mention she felt cleaner for it. The morning routine of brushing her teeth and combing through her thick hair helped make the dream from last night just that, a dream, nothing more.

While it had happened and after she had woken up in the late night, it felt like so much more. And now, although the events of the nightmare were most likely fairly accurate, she knew that what she'd seen was not truthful.

Feeling as well as could be for having lost her parents and finally come to terms with it, at least accepting the truth, she breathed deeply and steeled herself. It was a torturous fact that her life would go on one day at a time, even without her mother and father.

She'd take whatever anyone threw her way. Though, Lestrange could expect her to return the favor ten fold. Already the fires of revenge were kindling within her, and as obsessive vendettas could be, it had the possibility of consuming her.

A small grumbling noise let her know that another part of her was empty other than her heart. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything for some time. Mrs. Weasley's cooking was always appreciated, but last night she'd been too overwhelmed to even look at the soup.

Breakfast seemed like a very good idea at the moment and now that it was at her convenience, so did a kitchen in the Head's dorms. What seemed silly before now made her life all the more easy, as she found a freshly brewed pot of coffee and breakfast foods on the counter top.

The day outside was too beautiful for Hermione to even harbor the idea of staying indoors. Some reading was in order, about the Angelus, and of course she needed to catch up on the events of the last couple days from both worlds.

Perhaps she should go to the bank. All of this would have to be off the radar, so as not to pick up any unwanted attention. First thing was first though, so she scurried off to the kitchens to speak with Dobby in hopes of finding some suitable clothes, at least until she had seen to buying her own.

1Though her feet knew the way to the kitchens behind the painting of the bowl of fruit, there were also many other paths that were followed on instinct. So, she had to at least think of her destination, otherwise she might find herself outside of the transfiguration classroom waiting for a class that wouldn't start for two months.

Pajamas or not, there was no one around for Hermione to worry about seeing her. While the clothes weren't necessarily revealing, she still would have felt embarrassed running into professor Dumbledore.

Quietly, with only the soft pat of her bare feet, she made her way from the dormitory to a more recognizable point in the castle. The Head's dorms were actually on the fifth floor, not too far from the astronomy tower.

No paintings or tapestries indicated the doorway to the common room. Rather, it worked much like the entrance to Diagon Alley, only there was a single oddly placed knob on the inside. Once turned, the stones shifted into an arched opening. If she planned on getting back in, she'd have to ask Dumbledore, since there was no knob on the outside.

Relishing in the familiar sights that met her eyes, part of her seemed to loosen up and relax. Coming around the corner, the sight of a familiar corridor brought her to an awed halt.

Perhaps she'd never been about the east wing at this time of day, or perhaps she'd never moved her face out from behind whatever book she might have been reading while passing down the hall. Whatever the reason, she was more than appreciative at the moment.

The long stretch of hall ahead had large, ceiling high, windows all along the right side. As it was morning and the right side faced east, sunlight filtered through each window. It was an ordinary, yet most magnificent sight. The floor and opposite wall seemed to glow.

Stepping forward the warm light engulfed her, warming her up.

Now she knew why Crookshanks lay in the sunlight coming through her bedroom window. An energy seemed to flow through her, which she could hardly contain. It was much like a feeling of joy and not being able to help but smile. Now, instead of smiling, she began twirling down the hall, from one section of light to the other, just like she'd seen the dancers do in any of the ballets she'd caught glimpses of.

While she was no ballerina, there seemed a grace about her at this point that no one, not even she, knew she possessed. Hair flying madly, she continued midway along the corridor before stopping to look out on the grounds below. Her father used to laugh and cheer her on when she'd dance about like a prima ballerina in her Halloween costume. That was years ago of course and her father wouldn't be there anymore to tell her she was his little princess and have her spin around with childhood innocence.

'A new appreciation of life?' she pondered, as she felt both sad with loss, but also elated at watching the enchanting scenery outside. 'Is that why I feel this way?' She continued to stare out the window.

'No, I just never noticed before, sad really.' Just as she'd never stopped to soak in the landscape and architecture of Hogwart's, she hadn't savored her last moments with her parents at all. A special dinner for her homecoming, and she'd called from Frankie's to cancel. The next time she'd seen them, they were lying dead in the living room.

Tearing her eyes away from outside the window, she started back to the kitchens, unaware at moment that someone was watching her far more avidly now after her whimsical display.

Just outside the painting that marked the entrance of the House Elves' food factory, Hermione reached out to tickle the pear, when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. While this certainly wasn't the first time she'd received such a feeling, it had been all too recent that it had happened and in a rather nasty situation.

So, for such a minor thing, her reaction was rather large. She spun about, glancing from right to left, picturing a Death Eater hidden in a shadow near by.

The area was empty. It was at this time that she was suddenly made aware of the fact that the painting was located at the end of a corridor, trapping her in like a mouse. The idea that there might be House Elves nearby didn't seem to be any reassurance.

Waiting a moment, but seeing nothing, she was content to turn back and tickle the fruit.

Once inside, she felt fine, though slightly foolish at getting spooked over nothing. There were no elves in sight, which was more than natural since school wasn't in session and there were no feasts to prepare.

"Dobby?" she called out to the large room full of miniaturized stainless steel cooking components.

There was a short pause of silence. Just as she began to wonder if it was at all possible to even contact him this way, a scurrying shuffle sounded around the corner near a set of pots and pans.

Dobby came bounding out, still wearing several of her hand knit clothing items she'd given him over two years ago. "Miss Hermione Granger miss, is in need of Dobby?" he squeaked excitedly.

"Dobby!" she greeted. "It's so good to see you." She even went so far as to bend to one knee and give him a hug, which of course set him off crying over how kind Harry's friends were and how he didn't deserve such treatment. Hermione waited a few minutes for the elf to collect himself.

Finally wiping the last few tears away he asked her if she was in need of anything.

"I was wondering if you happened to have any clothes. Or if you knew where I could find something more suitable to wear? Do you know what I mean?" she asked, knowing a house elf was the last creature to ask for knowledge on clothing.

"Of course!" he cried quickly, snapping his fingers and disappearing, before reappearing seconds later carrying a small bundle. Handing the bundle to Hermione he smiled up at her. Beaming, he awaited her word of approval.

Taking the clothes, she examined them, most satisfied with what he had managed to produce. It had been more than she had hoped for, that she might wear something of her own taste. Yet minutes later, she was dressed in a pair of well fitting denim jeans and red t-shirt sporting a yellow lion.

Having made her contentment known, she was going to push for a set of sneakers, when she remembered that she might be able to haggle getting her old pair. As far as she knew, she'd been wearing them during the attack, so it stood to reason she had them on afterwards and Madame Pomfrey would know where they were. After all, she'd lost everything else, if she could manage to retain at least a pair of shoes, she would.

After asking her several times if there was anything else he could get her, perhaps some food, a book, more clothes, some yarn for knitting, Dobby saw her to the door. She'd refused each offer kindly.

Turning to leave, intending to head to the Hospital wing, a movement caught Hermione's eye in one of the many pans hanging down from a rack. A dark shape moved to combine within the shadows of the dimly lit, currently unused room.

While it was enough to set her heart racing, she couldn't be sure it was anything but a play of light. Where was her wand when she needed it? Part of her couldn't help but feel like she was being followed now, first outside the kitchens in front of the painting and now this. Paranoid or not, she'd been through enough to know playing it safe meant the difference between life and death.

As calmly and nonchalantly as possible, Hermione slipped out of the kitchen and made her way to see Madam Pomfrey. Now that her attention was focused on trying feel the presence of anyone following her or waiting to jump out from the nearest door, the feeling of having eyes upon her surmounted.

It was all she could do to keep her stride unhitched and not run. Without her wand she was practically a sitting duck.

"Ah, Miss Granger," came the kind, but unexpected voice of Madame Pomfrey.

Hermione jumped back a step at the sudden appearance of the nurse, and couldn't hide her shock as she placed a hand over her heart. "Madame… Pomfrey," she stuttered out.

"My dear, are you alright? You look like you've seen a Boggart, you're paler than Sir Nicholas," the medi-witch tutted with concern.

"I'm fine, really. You just startled me, that's all." Her voice didn't hold as much conviction as she would have liked, but she wasn't about to admit she felt like someone was following her. "I wanted to see you actually." She sped her words up, before the nurse could ask what ailed her today. "About my shoes. I was wearing them in here wasn't I?"

"Yes, indeed. They're in the storeroom, on the floor beside the instant stitching potion." She directed as they walked into the infirmary together. "I'm afraid I've already discarded you're other clothes, they were worse for their wear, and not worth mending if you don't mind my saying so," the nurse added in light scrutiny, finding muggle fashion to be rather ridiculous.

All too soon Hermione had her sneakers and Madame Pomfrey was satisfied enough with her health to let her leave. Part of her was saying not to leave the medi-witch's side while the rest of her was saying she was being positively paranoid.

So, out the door she went, into the hall. Sure enough, that familiar feeling of eyes upon her returned. She gulped, bracing herself for the rather long walk to the main entrance. Something assured her that being outside would be safer, or at least ease her mind, since there wasn't any danger inside or out. She was just being paranoid after the attack.

It was not a fun walk. Not even halfway there her nerves felt shot, unable to take waiting for something seemingly inevitable to happen. She half expected each shadow to come to life and jump out at her. The smallest of noises made her eyes widen and breath hitch. Her own footsteps frightened her.

How stupid and terrible she felt, for she could not shake the awful feeling no matter what excuses she attributed it to. And because she felt so frightened, she berated herself in defense of a Gryffindor's pride and courage.

Just when she thought she'd pull her hair out, she ran head long into something hard while she turned the corner. She'd been taking another glance behind her and hadn't looked where she was going, but rather at what might be following.

Now, she stumbled back and would have fallen down had a strong pair of hands not gripped her shoulders and steadied her. Almost unwilling to look up, having realized she'd run into someone and not liking any of the possibilities of who might have been, she flinched slightly as she saw.

While her heart was still racing, having thought the sudden run-in was finally the shadow she'd been expecting, her chest heaved a little more than what was normal for simply walking. There before her, still gripping her shoulders, slightly harder than was comfortable, was professor Snape.

He stood head and shoulders taller than her and she had to actually look upwards to meet his eyes and sneering face. There was something in his eyes at the moment, she couldn't place it and only knew it wasn't something she wanted to be seeing.

Again, there was an unexplainable urge to run, to get out before it was too late. She held her breath for a moment. It never registered that his hands were still holding on to her shoulders or that her back was little more than a foot from the wall. Had it been anyone with harmful intentions she'd be in no state to put up a fight, least wise without her wand.

Snape sneered down at the insufferable know-it-all. It was because of her that he was being given so much grief from the Dark Lord. Following her was more than he could bear. Dumbledore had told him all about the Angelus, so he knew why he was having such a difficult time. It was Granger's fault. Always looking so innocent, totally unaware of the effect she was having on so many around her.

Before, he'd never so much as harbored an immoral thought about any of his students or colleagues, unless perhaps it was the untimely death of one or two of them. Now however, it was all he could do to restrain himself from pushing the ignorant, insufferable, pure, whole, succulent, seductive chit against the wall and doing more than just harboring bad thoughts. At least she wasn't Veela. Had that been the case, Potter and Weasley would have surely already done what he was now thinking several times over, before she could have so much as said a 'hello' upon waking up.

Her breasts were slowly rising and falling, that damn muggle clothing didn't leave much left hidden from outline. As her lips parted to say something, and she only sucked in a sharp breath, his sneer dropped from his face. Maybe he could blame his actions on Voldemort, since he was finding himself unable to restrain any longer.

Right as he was about to pin the girl to the wall, a startlingly firm grip was on his arm. He turned sharply on the intruder and sneered.

Hermione was now speechless, having watched Snape's play of emotions she couldn't place. Now, Malfoy was tugging, no, _pulling_, Snape's arm off her. She didn't know what to think.

"Granger!" Draco barked, not even looking at her, but keeping his eyes on the potion's master. "Moody would like a word, he sent me to retrieve you."

There was something in his voice that left absolutely no room for protesting. Not to mention, she felt suddenly relieved and safe, now that he was here. Shrugging her left shoulder out of Snape's grip, she moved to stand behind Malfoy, putting him in between Snape and herself.

"We'll see you later professor," Draco said to Snape, never wavering in his glare, never missing a beat as he stepped back and placed a protective arm around Hermione, escorting her away.

Too many heightened emotions were running through her to even register and protest the arm Malfoy had around her. The spine tingling fear of someone lurking nearby had remained for much longer than she cared for. So great was her feeling of relief at having the looming shadow alleviated, that she didn't care whom it was giving her sanctuary.

When they neared the grand oak doors that were the main entrance to Hogwarts, Draco dropped his arm and rounded on Hermione. "Are you a fool!" he shouted.

His comment seemed out of the blue and she could do nothing but gape at him for a moment, before glaring. Finally regaining her composure, she snapped back, "What are you on about?"

"You know nothing do you," his voice was angrier than he meant it to be. His anger was part from her being so damned naïve and part from his realization that he actually cared.

"I don't see what you're on about. Quit being such a damn prat." While she didn't enjoy being called a 'know-it-all' she loathed being told she 'knew nothing'.

He glared at her harshly, making her keep her silence with the severity and true concern within his stormy grey eyes. Running a hand through his blonde hair, giving it the wind swept look James Potter went for, he sighed. Attempting to calm down, he paused. He muttered to himself, "Moody was right" He closed his eyes for a moment. "Let's go," he said to her, nudging her elbow.

"Go where?" she asked, still angry.

Though he could have simply told her it was to see Moody, he still felt the age-old animosity for the Gryffindor. So instead, he just raised his voice slightly and said, "Just get moving Granger, we're headed for the pitch!"

He was far more amused than he ought to be when she wrenched her elbow away from him and stalked forward, making for the front steps. While she was less than agreeable, she was all too compliant. His amusement came from seeing his apparent effect on both the kitten and lioness, both listened to his orders. Hiding his smile, he followed in her angry steps.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

**Hermione's New Shadow**

Arriving at the Quidditch pitch, Hermione was positively fuming. Who did he think he was? _Scolding _her like that?

As they walked through the entrance's underpass she stopped, ready to round on him. Then walked again trying to think of something better to say.

Upon the third time she did this Draco quipped in with a nudge to her back, "Granger, get moving or I'll carry you the rest of the way."

"Who do you think you are?" She couldn't imagine where he got off giving her orders. Though, she didn't realize it she had begun walking forward at a slightly faster pace.

"Just the messenger, so don't shoot," he said lamely, following right behind.

Moody was nowhere in sight and they stood in the middle of the large stadium, centerfield.

She never realized just how huge it was, several times the size of a football field in length and width. The sun shone warm rays down onto the clean cut greener than green grass, making it feel like the hot summer day that it was.

They stood there for few minutes in silence. While she began to feel the heat, she glanced at Malfoy wearing a rich green cloak, the hem slightly caked with mud. She didn't know how he could stand to be wearing the garment, not now anyway.

Before she could dwell on what Malfoy was dressed in for too long, a thought occurred to her. She needed to know what had happened for the whole day she couldn't remember. "Malfoy," she began, but was unsure how to finish, since it seemed a touchy subject from the way Harry and Ron had acted.

"Yes Granger. I am Malfoy. It's no wonder how you passed each year, with such clever observations," he remarked sarcastically when she failed to finish her sentence.

Turning to face him she glared fiercely, never deterred by the fact that she had to angle her chin up rather high just to meet his gaze. Then she smirked at him, suddenly remembering the way he had been avoiding her eyes at the meeting, he didn't want her to know anything. "What happened that I can't remember?" she asked evenly, never blinking.

Flinching ever so slightly, Draco did all he could to keep the slight color from tingeing his cheeks. Perhaps she did know and was asking just to torment him. Either she remembered or tweedle dumb and dumber had told her in a more than likely a distorted version. He quirked an eyebrow and gave her his best playboy look. "Please spare me your attachments, Granger. It meant nothing."

Blushing slightly, Hermione wanted to kick herself. She'd just thought about how cute he looked, how could she? It was such a bad thought, and yet so true. Furrowing her brows and biting her bottom lip, a little harder than she meant to, she continued to glare up at him. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

Grinning, he couldn't help but play a little. He also couldn't help the thought that Granger's lip was slightly more red and plump from biting it, making it look like she'd just been thoroughly kissed. Ignoring the next image in his head that came after that, suffice to say it included a far more distressed little witch who had done a bit more than kissing, he stepped closer to her and bent down slightly.

"Come now Granger, use that pretty little head of yours and think about it. Surely, you can't be that naïve." Not knowing what made him do it, he reached out cupping her chin, and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. A shiver ran through him as he felt how warm and soft it was.

Hermione opened her mouth slightly, partly because she gasped in surprise and partly because it felt like the right thing to do. While she was trying to keep focus, she was harboring the most misplaced thoughts, some of which involved pulling him in closer so she could simply breathe in that scent again.

Malfoy was still grinning. He was playing with her. This brought her feet back to the ground, as anger took over. Her eyes danced with fire. This was a game that two could play.

Softening her eyes, she dropped her lids slightly, seductively. Putting her dignity on the line in hopes of winning the battle, she let out a small moan, just enough for him to hear. The sudden dilation of his pupils egged her on, and caused her to do something she would never admit to. Leaning forward, slightly, she opened her mouth more to suck and nibble on his thumb.

'Merlin's beard!' His mind was racing, as blood rushed to his head, in more ways than one. He gripped her chin more firmly, tilting her head up as he cast so many of his principles and cautions to the wind.

It was only a short distance between them. He needed only to close the small gap, just one quick motion. Though he'd deny it later, he wanted to do it terribly.

He stooped to take and claim her lips for his own, but stopped as the sudden presence of Moody made both of them round about, turning from each other, blushing ever so slightly.

'That didn't just happen!' was the thought they both shared.

Suddenly finding it far too hot, Draco discarded his cloak as Moody approached. There seemed a slight spring to the auror's usual limp. As the older man approached his mismatched eyes remained fixed on Hermione, it was clear his first words were to be to her.

Once within a fair distance Moody asked rather quickly, "Miss Granger, did you manage to read the book from Dumbledore?"

It seemed an odd question to her, one that didn't require her to come all the way out here to be answered. "No sir," she answered truthfully. Hardly caring that having not done so was most out of character for her. It wasn't as though it was her homework, although now that she considered it, it was probably far more important than that.

Without missing a beat, Moody pressed on. "And, have you given any thought to becoming an auror?"

Now she started to feel guilty, she hadn't taken anytime to mull over the information and choices presented to her. She lowered her head slightly and gave the same response, "No sir."

"Miss Granger," the dedicated, if only slightly obsessive auror, started with clear dissatisfaction in his voice, "just what have you done since our last meeting?"

"Well," sneered Draco, unsure as to why he was saying it, almost in defense of the stupid girl, "It couldn't possibly have been anything along the lines of dealing with the loss of a pair of damnable muggles, now could it, old man?"

Her eyes widened in shock, and surprisingly, laughter. Having caught her unexpected like that, she couldn't hide all of it and had to cover her mouth to stifle the rest. Though a part of her was angry at his casual reference to her parents' death, she knew that had not been the focus of his comment and let it slide beneath her mirth.

Oh, how Draco wanted to try that again, the next time involving him being silent and not seemingly coming to her rescue. Why did he do such rash things more increasingly around Granger? Now he could say goodbye to any breaks that day, possibly even week. There would be no end to Moody's increased drilling.

Unless… there was a hope, though he wasn't sure it was a trade off for the better. If Granger accepted training too, then Moody would go easy on her at first, which would in turn apply to him, maybe. Moody's immediate reaction was not what he had been expecting.

"Yes, well, we have all lost a lot." While set on his own agenda, his next words were sincere as could be. "There comes a time when we have to let go and carry on for the sake of something bigger than ourselves. It hurts to lose someone you love, especially when your own actions are so closely tied in."

His reference hit home with her, sobering her up quicker than Madame Pomfrey's hangover potion. "Professor," she was unable to get out anymore. The conversation had taken a quick turn for the serious and heavy.

It was imperative to sway Hermione in the right direction. She _had _to accept training, for her own safety as much as anyone else's. "I know what it feels like," Moody admitted, walking the line between the strict and slightly paranoid auror most people knew and the man he'd once been who very few remembered. He left his statement open for assumptions and interpretations, not willing or wanting to divulge any more than that. "While I would think it best for you to fully understand the situation you're in before making any decisions, I can only see one right choice. Accept this willingly and not only can you flourish in a most respected field, but you can save lives. Think of Harry and Ron. You want to protect what you still have, don't you?"

Hermione had grown rather solemn, Draco noticed. Moody's words, while true, had gone too far in the blonde's opinion. This was no longer a choice for her, not once he mentioned Weasel-bee and Scar-head. Put the word 'protect' in the same sentence as their names and you might as well say, 'If you don't train, Potter and co. will die without your help.'

It was definitely a low blow, one that even he as a Slytherin would not have used to sway her decision. There were no words he could use in her defense. In all honesty, even if there were, he wouldn't have used them. If she trained with him, he wouldn't have to carry this burden or secret alone. As much as he hated the idea of Granger being his partner, he was subconsciously desperate for any form of companionship.

The acceptance he had over Granger being with him was reasoned as something along the lines of, 'At least I won't suffer alone, now the know-it-all will wake at dawn and work tirelessly too.'

After a few moments of silence, Hermione had made her decision.

She was still wondering where all this had come from. Wondering over the idea that she could be an auror at such a young age.

"I don't know what happened yesterday, and truthfully I'm not sure I want to know." She paused, raising her head to look Moody in the eyes. "You have so much confidence in abilities I know nothing about having, in some respects that's quite flattering. Now however, I just have to say something I've been feeling for some time. If there is so much hope for me to aide in winning this war, then we've been fairing worse in this fight than I thought."

She was thinking about her feelings from before, that no one seemed to take things as serious as they were, no one seemed to realize there was an actual war going on out there Not many seemed to understand what true evil meant, not even herself until recently.

Her words struck both of them to attention. 'Where had that come from?' Draco wondered, part of him beginning to support the idea of Hermione saying 'yes' for his admiration in the sheer profoundness of her words.

Moody sighed, "Girly, you have no idea the truth you speak."

She scoffed, her mood having become coldly detached, in a most serious and forthright way. "Then, we should begin."

The mentor of the two youngest aurors in training nodded approvingly. Castor and Galloway would certainly meet their match. Granger had already surpassed lesson one, masking emotions. Her face and voice betrayed nothing at the moment. Just like last night. Though, he was positive Malfoy would probably be able to rile her up, all she'd need would be some practice.

They began by running. Moody had informed her that the physical condition for a young and inexperienced auror was everything. What they lacked for in knowledge and experience they would have to make up for in ability.

Though she had been reluctant and protesting of Moody's words, he assured her that she was capable of more than she knew. Draco was in far better shape than she was, holding a steady pace much faster than her own as they ran the oval shaped pitch.

Truly feeling like a winded bookworm who didn't get nearly enough exercise, she was spurred on by the steadily distancing form of Malfoy. There was no doubt in her mind that at this point he out ranked her in physical fitness, but if she had anything to do about it, she'd catch up as quickly as possible and beat him.

This spark of competitive spirit was exactly what Moody had been expecting, knowing full well the history between the two. He watched as she jogged along, gasping for air but not missing a stride. Mind over matter, she trekked along determined to catch up, or rather when they were closer to the end, not to be lapped. There was no wand at her disposal for the present, but Dumbledore assured him there was a small secret in the making. They couldn't very well work on triggering and releasing her Angelus' abilities, not with out her having read the book and coming into them more naturally. That only left a few options.

An hour later, when Hermione seemed ready to pass out or throw up, possibly both, he called an end to their warm up. "We'll work on flying," he announced. Glaring at Draco as the boy rolled his eyes.

Dobby had brought them cold bottles of water, and Hermione gulped gratefully, careful not to drink too much all at once. Upon hearing Moody's announcement though, she choked and began coughing.

Draco had rolled his eyes, still not seeing the point to becoming a better flyer, as it didn't seem to have anything to do with being an auror.

Regaining her composure, and once again having her breath at a calm pace for the first time in over an hour, she asked incredulously, "Flying? I can't fly. What does that have to do with being an auror anyway?"

Furrowing his brows, Draco ignored the thought that great minds think alike, and turned to Hermione. "What do you mean you can't fly?"

Hermione in turn looked at him as though he'd asked the reasoning behind simple addition. "Just what I said Malfoy. Didn't know you were so thick. You might give Crabbe and Goyle a run for their money."

"It's not important," Moody snapped at Draco, giving him a look that conveyed a clear message, 'Drop it unless you want to tell her all about your escapades together.'

Snapping his mouth shut, a retort hanging off his tong, he looked away and defiantly crossed his arms. He had known what Granger meant, but he still didn't understand how it could be possible. For one thing, everyone could fly. For another, no one who flew like she had yesterday, could suddenly not be able to the next day. He didn't care that the kitten from yesterday and the girl before him now were practically two different people.

Moody did a quick 'accio brooms' and they were ready to begin. Draco mounted his and hovered with an ease that showed he could probably fly in his sleep. Hermione on the other hand stood firmly rooted, holding the broom vertically like it was only meant for sweeping.

"Come along now Granger," Moody said. The lesson couldn't begin unless she at least attempted to mount the thing.

"I can't fly," she stated simply.

"Everyone can fly you winded twit, now get on the damn broom!" snapped Draco. His words were not received well, as Hermione shot daggers at him with her eyes. The fire that burned within those eyes actually made him wary of going too far. But, he was still a bit miffed at the incident from before Moody had arrived. The wench had caused him to lose control of his own game and of himself. Most of the running had helped to calm him and sort out his anger, but he was still spurned.

"I'm afraid to fly," she finally admitted, eyes cast to the ground.

"That's no matter. Lots of people are afraid of heights," consoled a slightly impatient Moody.

"I'm not acrophobic sir, in fact I rather enjoy heights. It's the falling that scares me. And this thing," she thrust forth the broom, "isn't exactly the safest device, as it does nothing to keep you on."

Moody's good eye almost seemed to twinkle as the Headmaster's had a habit of doing. "I promise you that even if you did fall, you'd be fine."

Reluctantly, Hermione got on and kicked off. Flying was easy enough for her, but once she got up high enough she couldn't help but think about the fall down.

Draco couldn't help himself. Half promising this was the last of his anger, just one more jest. He flew up beside her and patted her on the back. "Don't worry Granger. The fall is nothing to fear."

She looked at him shocked.

Smirking, he added, "It's the landing that'll kill you." Then he flew away, hearing her shout something about being an 'insufferable prat'.

Another hour later, Hermione had moved along to practicing basic drills that the Quidditch teams worked on. Though she wasn't one hundred percent comfortable, she had improved quite a bit and didn't hesitate in anything. Naturally, her skills were practically nonexistent. The next time she looked to the ground, she saw another figure running to the middle of the pitch.

The purple hair gave it away. Tonks was here meeting Moody. Quickly, she descended. Draco seemed to have the same idea and followed closely.

Once they had dismounted and met a disgruntled Moody and worrisome Tonks, they waited for whatever news might be broken.

"We're done for today," Moody said quickly. "Not much to work on. Granger, be sure to have that book read by tomorrow."

She nodded, wondering if she should ask what was going on. But, it might have been Tonks' assignment, in which case it was none of her business. So instead, before Moody could rush off she asked, "Can I visit home again?"

His magic eye swiveled on her with his back turned. "What?"

The tone in his voice held a stern reprimand that made her fear she'd done something most terrible. "There are some things I'd like to take care of."

"Granger, you…" The girl didn't know about the bounty out for her. Voldemort was desperate to get a hold of her. And yet, there were laws preventing them from keeping her under house arrest at Hogwarts. It was a sticky situation. "Malfoy," he said in a commanding tone, as though he were a Captain ordering his first in command. "You're to be her Watcher. Shadow her and see you're back by dinner."

Draco made no complaints, no arguing, just a solid nod and understanding expression.

Hermione didn't understand. This was Malfoy, the prince of Slytherin who didn't take orders from anybody. 'Oh well,' she thought, 'Weirder things have happened, I suppose. Though, I can't name any.'

She had received the go ahead to visit her hometown again. She'd see Mia and find out what excuse was used to cover up her parents' murder, then she'd make a few inquiries as to her financial situation. If they were back by dinner she'd have plenty of time to read about the Angelus. Now, however, she was going to take a shower and ask Dobby to clean her clothes. It was only noon, she judged. There was lots of time.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

**Trust Before Friendship**

Hermione's hair was still damp as she stepped from the hearth in one of the Leaky Cauldron's private rooms. Draco's hair, she noticed, was very much dry. He had cast a spell after his shower. She resented him for this at the moment, since she didn't have her wand anymore. Perhaps a trip to Olivander's was in order as well. How could she train without a wand?

Exiting the room, the bustling sound of a packed bar met their ears. It was surprisingly full for being so early in the day. Stepping out into the throng of mixed characters, Hermione searched for Tom, the barkeep.

While she didn't know how he was going to help her, Malfoy assured her that in order to get to her hometown safely and quickly they needed to come here and see Tom.

An arm rested on her shoulder, Malfoy was guiding her through the crowed tables and aisles. She was about to protest and shrug it off, when she looked up to find his eyes searching the room in a very calculating manner.

She wasn't sure how long he'd been training, but it would seem like he was following some procedure as though it were second nature. So, she couldn't very well argue when he wasn't actually doing her any harm and was apparently just doing as he'd been told.

Draco's grip tightened slightly as he ushered her to a small, darkened space behind a large pillar.

"I'd almost forgotten how much attention you draw to yourself now," he said as he began to take his green cloak off. Without another word he wrapped it around her and drew the hood up.

Drawing back he studied her a moment, then muttered, "Apparella Constricte" The cloak adjusted to her different frame at once. Reaching up, Hermione made to lower the hood, only to have Draco's hand grab her own. "No," was all he said, before replacing his arm and guiding her back out.

Again, she questioned, 'who does he think he is?' It was hot underneath the cloak. This was no summer garment, probably the only thing of his that wasn't resistant to adjustments.

He couldn't very well expect her to wear this once they were in Brighton. It was a muggle city. A cloak was most definitely not incognito. However, she did get the opportunity to smell that scent again, without resorting to sniffing Malfoy, which she would never do.

They waited up at the bar. Tom should have been nearby.

Sure enough, the barkeep came out from a back room, surprised at his new guests. Draco he of course recognized. There was no mistaking the boy with his platinum blonde hair and refined facial structure. The other he was not so quick on the pick up, he could see her long auburn hair that fell from behind the hood, but her face was hidden in the shadow of the hood as her head was downcast. Just when she seemed about to look up and reveal her face, the youngest of the Malfoy clan placed a hand on her head to keep it lowered. 'Odd,' Tom thought.

"We'd like to go to Brighton," Draco stated evenly, keeping a gentle but firm hand on top of Hermione's head. While Tom was a member of the Order, he trusted only two people implicitly, and this owner of the Leaky Cauldron was not one of them.

If he could keep the barman from knowing it was Granger underneath the cloak, he would. If even one less person knew her location it was all the better. There was a trickling fear though, that Granger would blow up any second in a fit of rage over being treated so. He could only pray she understood

The barman gave a simple nod and came around to meet them. With his request the floo connection was altered for the allotted time of an hour, any longer might bring trouble.

As Malfoy stepped forward to go first like he'd done before, Hermione stood waiting and wondering where they were going to arrive. Earlier, it seemed odd to her that they were able to floo from the Head's common room hearth, and not only that, but Draco had instructed her that all she needed to do was step into the flame, no words were needed.

She was curious as to where a safe touch down point would be in Brighton. Her musings and reverie was disturbed when Draco pulled her into the fire place with himself, glancing warily around the room and even at Tom. 'How rude could one person be?' she wondered. He wasn't making any effort to hide his distrust in the barman, when poor Tom had never been nothing but helpful and as far as she knew loyal to their cause. 'Besides, could two people even floo at the same time?'

Apparently they could, because Hermione went through the whirl of flames clutching Malfoy's shirt. He'd thrown the dust down without warning.

Managing to stand on her two feet only by luck and the fact that Malfoy was practically holding her up, she tore the hood down and started at him finally expressing her dislike at the procedures he was taking. "Dammit Malfoy! What's your issue? Stop being so pushy!"

She waited for the harsh retort on his end. When none came she stared into his cold and completely impassive grey eyes. Their little dance of bickering didn't work properly when he didn't reply sarcastically or insultingly. As if his unreturned malevolence wasn't enough to deflate her riled mood he just had to make his next comment.

"Granger, since when is being safe, being pushy? I'm sure I don't have to explain the danger you're in if the wrong people see you. That was a crowded room mostly full of people who haven't declared their loyalties to our side."

'Merlin, could he say that any more chastising?' Feeling rather small at the moment, for being angry when he was being so serious and, Merlin help her, responsible, she softened her glare. "Fine," she mumbled. "Can I at least not wear the cloak, it'll make me stand out more than if I hide behind it."

For the first time since Moody had told him to escort her, Malfoy betrayed his cold façade. Looking playfully down at her, he withdrew his arm and pulled the cloak tighter around her. "But it looks so much better on you than it did on me."

In an attempt to hide how flustered his comment made her, she pulled the garment off and threw it at his chest. "Malfoy!" was all she shouted. Even if he was joking, that look of his caused her to feel something she should never be feeling about _him_. Now he was actually laughing at her, well chuckling at least, but for Malfoy to chuckle was as much laughter as one might get out of him. "I'm glad I could be so amusing for you."

He blanched at her words, not knowing why. It suddenly seemed as though she was triggering all the wrong thoughts in him. While her statement was entirely literal and innocent on her part, his mind, which he attributed to being a teenager, had misconstrued the words. And misconstrued words lead to much more among the imaginative.

Raising a single brow she studied him for a moment. "Bit bi-polar are we?" she questioned lightly, no longer looking for a fight. He'd gone from laughing to blushing, if that's what you could call the light color in his cheeks, and he wouldn't meet her gaze.

Hermione shrugged, not wanting to press any matter that seemed awkward for him. He probably just realized he was openly enjoying himself. It was odd for her too. That is, to see this new side to Malfoy. While he was still the same old Malfoy, there was something distinctively less mean and hurtful about him. His sharp words had lost their ability to cut her, and his cold mask seemed to be a fragile, glued vase that shattered each time it fell.

More often, she was seeing emotions from him she'd never seen before in all her six years of knowing the guy. It was hard to tell if it was truly kindness and warmth she detected from time to time, or just the fact that knowing he was on their side shed an angled light on things.

And then there was the most drastic change, which she was most reluctant to accept or admit. Malfoy was _hot_. There was no denying what was plain for the eyes to see. Of course, Harry and Ron were pretty good looking too, but that didn't mean she was attracted to them.

This was why she was so reluctant to focus on his appearance. Now that she had observed his visual appeal, there was something within her that felt dangerously close to attraction. The last person in the entire world that she, Hermione Granger, was going to have a crush on was Draco Malfoy.

With her resolve set, Hermione surveyed their surroundings. They were in a living room, or family room. The house was empty, no chairs or couch, no rug or coffee tables, no pictures on the wall, no nothing.

"We moving in?" she asked.

Malfoy studied her a moment, never certain when she was gonna throw a punch for a fight or lay her gloves down and act civil. "This is a safe house," he answered, carrying a civil tone. "The one used as a check point for your Watchers. Let's go outside, I'm sure you'll recognize where we are."

Sure enough, the moment Hermione stepped outside onto the busy street, she recognized where she was. It was an apartment building they were in, not a house, and it was also quite close to where she lived. 'Used to live,' she reminded herself.

The need and almost urgency to see Mia and her house again surged forth as though she'd been repressing it for a long time. So, she began in a quick stride down the street. Malfoy had different plans, as he grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her to a halt.

"Hold it Granger. Don't go rushing off like there's no tomorrow. Stay close, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," she complied shrugging his hold off.

Together this time, they set off, walking casually, following her directions. A few times, Malfoy slowed the pace and drew her near to him as he scanned the area. He was acting more paranoid than she had been back at the castle.

"Either you see something or you don't," she finally stated, angry at the thoughts he was eliciting in her each time he pulled her to him.

"Constant vigilance, Granger. I can't be too careful, even if it means taking caution at an oddly shaped shadow." He didn't even bother looking away from where his eyes were fixed.

There was a man in the crowd, one he'd seen several times already. There was something about him that didn't sit well with Draco. This time, he'd seen the man coming out of a café, carrying a coffee and reading newspaper. The only trouble was, the paper was upside down and he distinctly saw the guy staring their way.

Draco didn't like it, being out in the street, not when it was so crowded with loud cars passing by. It made it impossible to count heads and listen for faint sounds. "Are we almost there?" he asked, unsure as to whether he should risk staying out in the open much longer.

Hermione was now searching the area for his object of interest, since Malfoy had obviously seen something that caught his eye. She didn't know what to look for, Lestrange standing on the corner in her mask and black robes perhaps, but there was nothing.

"Uh huh," she intoned still trying to find what Malfoy felt might constitute a danger. An arm around her back, and a hand gripping her shoulder made her stop her search. "What?" she asked, affronted at the serious and worried look in his eyes.

Now, he was positive the coffee guy had been looking their way, more pointedly at Hermione. The man had had the audacity to chance another glance at the girl, before looking up and down the street and crossing. Rounding the corner, sipping his coffee, he vanished out of sight.

Once the man was out of view, Draco noticed Hermione was looking in the same direction, trying to find what he was looking at. Had Draco not been so concerned by being spotted, he would have found her actions amusing. Instead he caught her attention and tried to convey the severity of their situation through a look. "How close?"

Mouth gaping for a moment, she answered hesitantly, "Just around the corner." Seeing his eyes sharpen as he snapped his head back to attention, staring down the street towards their destination, she asked a bit alarmed, "What is it?"

"We're not going," he stated, having made his decision final.

"But, I came to see Mia. Her shop is right around the corner. It's not that far, less than a block." She tried to shrug his arm off, determined to see Mia, oddly enough the one person she felt she could talk to about everything. Part of her wanted to just run into the shop, to show Malfoy how close it was.

His grip tightened. "Don't do anything rash Granger. I can't protect you if I have to chase after you."

Trying to pull away she snapped, "I don't need your protection." She at least had enough sense to keep her voice down.

Debating whether his words were warranted or not, he decided that Granger's feelings at the moment were keeping her from thinking rationally, so a wake up call might be in order.

Solemnly, he spoke, "If not my protection, then whose? You can't take care of yourself even with a wand. Stop and think a moment. Your parents just died and you almost did too." He was already beginning to regret his words from the hurt look in her eyes, but in for a penny, in for a pound. "To say it lightly, you're helpless right now." There must be something he could say to ease this a bit. "And while that'll change with Moody's help, you remain vulnerable and sought after. If you think running off without me is a good idea then go ahead and try it, but not unless you have a death wish."

Without thinking Hermione promptly turned and used her left arm to release his own from around her, while bringing her right hand up to his face for a hard slap. This caught several people's attention as they glanced their way. Turning to leave, she hadn't got more than a step before his words brought her to a screeching halt and made her cry.

Though Draco could have easily avoided her slap, he felt it would be better for her to release some of that anger, lest he find himself unable to calm her down all together. His heart was racing as she moved away from him. He had to get her to listen to him. It took far more work with the angry lioness than the tame kitten.

"Go ahead. We'll just see how many others need to die before you take more caution. Just remember, this time, you will be to blame." Even he cringed at his words. For finally being on the same side he was certainly finding himself saying things far more hurtful than in all the other six years when they had nothing in common but being each other's enemy.

She turned around and looked into his steel grey eyes with her watery rusty brown ones. "You don't mean that." Her voice quivered slightly, her throat felt hot. On the verge of tears, she waited for his next words, either affirming or regretful. She wanted nothing more than for him to say he was sorry and didn't mean it.

He almost caved in at the sight of her, he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and apologize, swearing he meant none of it. But, that would do neither of them any good. While they didn't get along, or even like each other, Moody had given him his orders. He was to keep her safe, which was something he couldn't do if she didn't listen to him. If he apologized now, then she wouldn't realize how vulnerable she truly was. Snape had her cornered just this morning, and yet she took none of this into consideration.

Opting for silence, he waited for her next reaction.

When Malfoy didn't say anything in return, she was at a loss for what to do. So, she churned his words over in her head. Was he right? Was she weak and helpless? What if she was taken alive? More than likely Harry and Ron would act rashly like any Gryffindor and attempt to save her, and then they might be killed. She hadn't considered that. Was there really more danger to her situation than she was realizing?

"Maybe…" She took a step back to him. "Maybe you're right." Even though she had calmed down a bit, she still felt hot tears welling in her eyes. As the first of them rolled down her cheek, she looked regretfully at Malfoy. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Reaching out, he placed a hand on the back of her head and pulled it against his chest, "It's fine," was all he could say, feeling more relieved that he'd been able to stop her from acting rashly than words could express. She promptly sniffled and shed a few more tears against him, before seemingly expelling it all. Finally, she muttered something too muffled for him to understand. Placing his hands on either side of her head, cupping just under her jaw, he gently lifted her head away. "Want to try that again?"

"Can we go to the bank?" she asked again.

He furrowed his brows. "The bank?"

She nodded. "I need money, whatever my parents left behind." Somehow it sounded terrible to her now that it was vocalized.

"Do you know what they left behind?" he asked carefully, knowing it was a sensitive subject that required tiptoeing around the right words.

"No. In fact I think I'll have to see their attorney about any will they might have had."

"Then we should go to Gringotts." Upon seeing a disapproving look from her, he explained his reasoning. "They might have been muggles, but like most muggles who find out about our world, they would have switched a few financial and legal things around."

"I don't understand, my parents used Gringotts bank only a hand full of times, and that was for money exchange."

"I know what I'm talking about Granger. If your parents were smart people, then they would have seen the benefits of having their money in a wizarding bank. For one thing, Gingotts is willing to exchange for muggle money any time, so they'd have what they needed whenever they needed. For another, there isn't a safer place to have your assets. With you in their lives, I'm willing to bet they would have made more than a few adjustments for the new life style."

It was true. Draco was rather knowledgeable about Gringotts' procedures, policies, and statistical standing among muggles. Of course his reasons for knowing this remain undeclared.

Shaking her head, she was about to protest when he put a finger to her mouth.

"Just go with me on this one." And without further hesitation he raised his right arm and flagged the night bus.

After they boarded, she asked, "Why are we taking the night bus?"

He quirked a brow. "Because I think it's a better idea." When she didn't seem satisfied with his answer he continued, "I was able to over see Tom's request for the floo connection before. Now, I can't say for sure whether we'd still arrive back where we came from if we were to use it again. Don't give me that look, I don't trust the guy."

"Not trusting anyone will be your downfall," she stated in a sigh.

"Oh?" He gave her that don't-get-on-your-high-horse-just-yet look. "Well, trusting too easily will be yours."

Looking at him in a most serious manner, she stated, "I trust you." She didn't know why she said it, or even that she actually felt that way until she had. "Is it misplaced?" Her eyes never left his.

There was surprise in his eyes, and something along the lines of gratitude. It took him a thoughtful moment to reply. "No," he stated flatly and evenly. "It's not." He was about to ask her why she trusted him, but only managed the "Wh-" part before he was cut off.

"Do you trust me?" she cut in.

There were so many emotions he saw in her eyes. Hope and eagerness seemed to be the foremost. Not knowing what made him answer so, or even that it was true until he had said it, he replied, "Yes"

Neither Draco nor Hermione broke gaze for several moments, both milling over their newfound trust in one another.

The bus was empty, except for them. There was quiet. Finally, they both broke the silence at the same time. "This doesn't mean we're friends!" they stated in sync. Their eyes widened, before they promptly turned away from each and rode the rest of the way in refusing to speak to each other.

* * *

"I'm afraid I lost sight of them," Thomas Collins reported to Moody.

Moody gave a sudden shout of laughter. "That's great. He's coming along just fine then."

"Sir?" Collins asked confused. He was supposed to tail Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger to the shop known as Frankie's, but lost all visual contact once he'd gone around the corner. He'd been told they would follow the path from the safe house to the shop, so he had waited in the shop for only so long before returning to the safe house and finding neither hide nor hair of either.

"It's unimportant Collins. Return to your post. You aren't in trouble," Moody dismissed the man. Indeed, Malfoy was coming along nicely. He had been hoping the lad would catch onto Collins once inside the bookstore, but he was impressed to find out that they hadn't even gotten all the way there before making an escape. Dumbledore had been right in his recommendations. Never before had anyone trained at such a young age.

* * *

Hermione and Draco were leaving Gringotts wizarding bank. Draco looked crestfallen, while Hermione looked rather happy.

"Where to first?" he asked as though anything she said was some condemning sentence to Azkaban.

"Olivander's," she replied, simply. "I need a new wand."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

**Between Wands, Wings, and Innocence**

The sound of a shop bell rang through the air as Hermione stepped through the door into Olivander's wand shop. Once again she was wearing Draco's heavy forest green cloak. She had drawn the hood back upon stepping through the door into the sweet solace of the empty store. Draco held the door open while she moved further in. He stood at least half a foot taller than her in his muggle clothing of black slacks and buttoned navy blue dress shirt, cuffs rolled up for the warm weather.

It hadn't been until they stood waiting in Gringotts bank for assistance that Hermione noticed how easily he might blend in with a muggle crowd. To her, there was no difference or odd transition from one world to the next, so between muggle and wizarding clothes she took it all in and perceived it as normal.

Now though, she had to admit she preferred him in muggle attire, as it accentuated his nicer features. From broad shoulders, to a narrow waist, to a sexy butt he was eye candy to say the least. She had taken notice earlier and decidedly stared at the floor and willed unwanted thoughts from her mind.

Holding the door open for a lengthened moment of subtle surveillance, Draco waited as Hermione stepped all the way in. It had been more than safe for her to roam free of disguise in the bank, since all Gringotts associates were sworn to a oath of secrecy and discretion that made exceptions for no man or creature.

So, while Hermione had been listening intently to a stern, but rather kinder looking than the rest, goblin, he'd felt able to relax slightly. If there was ever a safe haven for them it was Gringotts, second to Hogwarts, even better than headquarters.

Having been slightly more relaxed inside the back, he'd found himself studying her rather than the milling crowds they'd been surrounded by outside.

His study had led him to a few less than acceptable conclusions.

Granger was definitely no girl next door, which was why it was so difficult for him. Had she been just another pretty face or body, it would have been easy for him, the prince of Slytherin, to make the observation but attach a mental post-it stating, 'Cute, but stay away! Granger equals gruesome death by hands of Pot-head and Weasel-bee.'

No, it wasn't like that. She didn't have an appearance that was merely appealing. She had an appearance that was breathtaking and eye catching. So eye catching that he had to hide her underneath a damn cloak to keep her off the male population's radar and unnoticed.

Since their little truce, if that's what trusting each other meant, he found himself constantly thinking about her, so much so that it was getting annoying. Thoughts aside, the second they had started back outside of the bank he'd thrown the cloak over her for his own ease of mind and for the safety issues.

Her muggle clothes didn't leave much to be imagined. Although they revealed nothing, as the jeans were long and not necessarily tight and her shirt was at a cut just under her collarbone, they still outlined her curved figure. They showed every sway of her hips as she walked, every gentle bounce of…well, yes, he was watching rather fixedly, which was why the cloak eased his creative mind.

Now he stood behind her, staring down at her abundance of golden brown curls that fell down her back. He had come to the conclusion that Moody had made Hermione his charge for more than one reason. On a slier note, he had decided Moody set him up to be near the girl to make him learn self control, of both the mind and body.

It was now his goal to banish all sex driven thoughts about Granger and focus solely on her protection. He would do it if it killed him. Dammit, if she kept looking up at him with those innocent eyes death might actually be the only way to stop his racing mind.

Hermione looked back at Draco, having seen no one inside the shop, she wanted the okay to wait for a bit if need be.

He nodded, so she walked in all the way and went to the front desk to ring the bell. Not being used to the on again, off again routine for heavy clothing, it took her a minute before realizing she should undo the cloak. Draco however took another liberty of his authority to order her, which she only allowed him to do since he was her designated Watcher, and swatted her hand away from the clasp.

He undid it himself, telling her, "You can leave it open, but keep it on." She might be slightly uncomfortable being so warm, but he would be unnerved if he had to watch her before he was able to Zen himself to a higher train of thought.

Rolling her eyes she left the matter alone, not even touching base on how controlling he was being. "Fine, but you're buying me ice cold lemonade. I'm only this hot because you insist on me wearing this."

While she was uncomfortably warm, it wasn't unbearable. Truth be told, she only ever made to take the garment off with half the intention to actually remove it. The other half was for Draco to stop her and make him move closer. In fact, she might miss wearing it, because once it was gone she wouldn't be able to feel its comfort or have its scent.

Oh, it was a sad day for all headstrong and smart girls when they began to subconsciously crush over the school's trademark bad boy. Then again, wasn't that the fantasy and part of the forbidden appeal. Mentally, she slapped the back of her hand, willing all thoughts from her mind, except those that had to do with a wand.

"What may I help you with?" came an old, even toned voiced. Mr. Olivander parted a set of purple curtains that acted as a door between the main room they were in and an out of sight stock room, full of wands.

"I'm sorry to tell you sir, that my wand has been destroyed." Hermione knew of the man's love and dedication to all wands, so she tried to show him her own sorrow for what he would have thought was more akin to the loss of a child rather than a stick of wood that focused energy.

She wasn't faking however, as she felt like she was missing a hand. "I need a new one, is it possible to uh… find another match?"

For a man that reminded her of Einstein with his fluffy white hair and madman features, he seemed gravely solemn. "Never, I'm afraid. There is only ever one true wand for us all, and of course should you find something even remotely close, you- uh miss, miss-"

"Granger," she input helpfully. He could probably recite what type of wand she had lost now that he had her name, but he couldn't remember her face.

"Granger?" he said in surprise. "Yes, well as I was saying, the one you have lost, you have also spent the last six years building a bonding compatibility with it. However, I do believe you have a rare circumstance which I've never come across the likes of in all my years. I was shocked, to say the least, when Dumbledore approached me. Give me a moment and I'll retrieve your wand."

Hermione was about to pipe in that she hadn't the foggiest idea what he was on about, when Draco rested a hand on her shoulder and stopped her.

Once Mr. Olivander was safely behind the curtains he commented, "Let's see where this goes."

"What has Dumbledore been up to that has to do with me?" she asked Draco, as if he would even know.

"There is a lot the old man does that is better left unsaid and unknown. I certainly don't pretend to understand a single thing about him," he replied.

Shortly after, the shop owner came back through the curtains holding a solid black case, containing a wand judging from its dimensions. He presented the case to Hermione.

Hesitating, only long enough to look at Draco and receive a nod to continue, she took it and opened it up. A brief, but blinding flash, of white light came forth. Hermione stared utterly transfixed at the contents, a simple wand, and yet it called out to her. It was hers, and she needed to have it in her hands now.

Suddenly, the case was snapped shut and wrenched from her grasp by Mr. Olivander. "Indeed, this is your wand. Ten inch oak, simple enough, but most rare and special of all is the core." There was pause, in which the old man was obviously waiting for a willing and excited guess.

Appeasing the man, if only to distract himself from the short release of raw magic he had just seen, Draco ventured lamely, "Unicorn hair?"

"Hardly worthy in comparison, my dear boy." The old man turned to Hermione, who after having been pulled from her trance didn't feel like playing games, but rather having her wand. Seeing this, he stated, "I am pleased to say I made the core from Angelus' feather. I have you to thank, dear, it was a great honor to do so. Never had I imagined I would be able to work with such a rare item. Most powerful. Yes, this wand will suit you far better than your other. I advise you, don't handle the wand until you are in a more suitable environment, as it will unleash an initial surge of raw magic from you."

Having spoken his peace, he handed the black box to Draco, giving him a pointedly obvious look that said even louder than his actions, almost spelling it out so that Weasley might even get it, 'I'm giving this to you, so don't let her open it just yet.'

Draco almost had to bite his lip to keep from making a snide remark about the man's skills, or lack thereof, for being subtle. Instead he settled for stashing the box under his arm and nodding in compliance to the wand maker. "How much?" he asked. A simple shake of the head told him the last of what he needed to know.

Once outside, Draco tried not to laugh at the antics of the excited feline. She danced from foot to foot in front of him asking, "Can I have it? Please, I wanna hold it. Give it to me, please?"

Her curls bounce wildly and her eyes danced with excitement. He wondered if she was so focused on the wand that she had forgotten who he was, thinking she was perhaps in the presence of her knights in shining armor.

"Not until we get back to Hogwarts," he stated sternly, not knowing why Mr. Olivander insisted upon being somewhere else, but taking the man's words seriously.

Crestfallen, Hermione repositioned the cloak hood and turned away. Stepping forward, but not going anymore than a couple feet away from him, which was the farthest she'd wandered since their little sidewalk chat.

'Is she pouting?' he wondered most amused at the constant emotions and actions Granger kept showing him. If he laughed openly now, she'd probably become seriously angry, so he merely smirked and followed.

Their earlier trip to the bank had revealed to them exactly what Draco had thought it might. The Granger's had indeed kept their money and assets within a Gringotts vault. As dentists, they'd been practical people, so there was a last will and testament drawn even though they were in their mid forties and not even considering retirement yet. Everything had been left to Hermione, their pride and joy as a daughter, who was smart with her feet firmly grounded enough to manage money capably.

What surprised him, and shocked Hermione, was the amount of money being left. 'College fund,' was the term she had used, something about having one started since before she was born and then as business flourished more and more was added monthly, each year they upped the amount they added, considering it a wise investment as their daughter seemed prone to schooling.

Just because she had never been lacking in anything she'd wanted didn't mean she knew they'd been _rich_. She was under the impression that they were simply well off. And now, between how much their dentistry business was worth and the life insurance, she had a vault that would keep her comfortably set for the rest of her life.

While the whole money affair wasn't a happy business, the letters they had left behind were. Reassuring letters from both her parents, about how proud they were, had put a smile on her face. From her mother was a post message, encouraging her to indulge a little and go on a shopping spree to the nearest bookstore, reminding Hermione to enjoy life.

That had been why Hermione was smiling as they left, and why Draco was not happy. The prospect of shopping for the next three hours did nothing to make him smile, though not many things ever did.

It took all her smooth talking and pleading puppy dog eyes to get him to agree to let her shop in muggle stores. He in turn insisted that if she was to try on each and every outfit, of which there were countless, then he had to at least be with her in the dressing room.

While he assured her it was a matter of life and death, she assured him it was a matter of his own life or death if he didn't remain outside the door.

Slowly, he counted down the minutes. When she hadn't come out for a bit he called in. Her reply was that she was trying on different outfits. He told her there was no way for him to know whether she was okay or not, so she needed to say something every now and then.

Somehow, he didn't know how, it came down to her showcasing what she was considering buying. So now, she was parading around in an extremely short skirt, heels, and, Merlin help him, something called a halter top.

He was no longer counting the minutes out of boredom. He truly felt that if he didn't get her to stop showing off her damn body in those decidedly seductive muggle clothes, he'd lose him mind.

Just when he seemed to find his senses again, and managed to scan the area, doing his best to wave off the sleazy smiles he received from some of the girls and women, Granger would come out.

She'd be wearing something that revealed something that sent messages to his something.

"Granger," he managed through gritted teeth and closed eyes, he couldn't bare to keep looking at her lean and smooth and shapely legs any longer. "You're not getting that."

Half of this display and drawn out clichéd shopping spree was just to annoy Malfoy. Most of the outfits she tried on, like the one she wore now, were things she'd never dream of wearing in public.

While she could more than pull the look off, it wasn't her, and never would be. This was her convenient revenge. It allowed her to get all the clothes and replace her lost items, and also exact revenge for Draco making her have a crush on him.

Okay, so that wasn't exactly his fault, and probably something he didn't deserve revenge for, but if he hadn't been so insistent on her keeping close to him them she would never have realized he was something of a cute guy, when he wasn't being his Malfoy self.

Besides, there was also the last six years to answer for.

"Why not?" she asked, without any real conviction, referring to his command that she wouldn't buy the skirt and shirt, which amounted to the same amount of material as pair of pants.

Out of no where, came a wolf call. The whistling group of 'adolescent pricks', as Draco deemed them, sent him over the edge. He stood up and forcefully, though not roughly, escorted her back into the dressing room.

He searched around a bit before finding a long sleeve shirt and another pair of jeans. "These," he commanded, before leaving a stunned Hermione, and returning to send a death glare at the group of boys who had been ogling her.

Hermione came back out, wearing her original pair of faded blue jeans and red Gryffindor t-shirt. She made the final purchase, as this was the last store of many.

The only items she bought were the two garments Draco had gruffly handed her. She hadn't meant to push him over the edge, somewhere along the line she had begun to treat him like she would have Harry or Ron, which was a big mistake as he was nothing like either of them.

The whole rest of the way home, back to Hogwarts, Draco kept her close but at a distance. That is, she was in her usual spot right beside him, but he didn't as much as glance her way.

Finally, feeling guilty, since he had patiently waited for over two hours before blowing up like that, she started, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to play the joke so far."

"Joke!" Draco rounded as they were half way back to the common room, both their arms full of shrunken bags. "What joke?"

"Uh," She looked at him oddly, surprised he hadn't known she wasn't serious. "All those clothes, I was trying to make you tired and bored."

"Yeah, sure, tired and bored!" He was angry at her perceived innocence.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it so far, I didn't know you would get so angry over it." She was starting to wonder why he had gotten so angry.

"Granger! Do you even know what I'm on about? Did you hear those guys?" He was almost at a loss. She couldn't possibly be so naïve about it, could she? This didn't seem to be some act she was putting on.

"Yeah, I know what you're angry about. I made you wait patiently while I spent forever and a day trying on clothes I never intended to buy! What guys?" She was starting to get confused, were they even talking about the same thing anymore?

He made no reply, needing to think a moment. This was a new one for him. Yes, Granger was a rather innocent sixteen year-old, perhaps seventeen, he wasn't sure. But, was she really that naïve about her own looks?

Even if she couldn't see it, everyone else could, so that must have directed her attention to it. Unless of course…

Leave it to tweedle-dumb and dumber. With them flanking her night and day, of course no male Hogwarts student would dare approach her. She truly had no clue. Well, he certainly wasn't about to tell her. "Never mind," he sighed, continuing to walk back to their common room.

Reluctant to let the matter drop, feeling as though she were missing something important, she persisted, "What's wrong?"

Not having been far from their destination, Draco was tapping one of the stones with his wand when he threw the catnip ball in another direction. "I think you can have your wand now."

Hermione jumped in excitement, practically pushing him through the door and rounding on him, with a gleeful look in her eyes screaming, 'Gimme! Gimme!'

For dramatic effect, he prolonged things by slowly setting all the bags down and drawing the case out from one. He couldn't help but amuse himself, since she _had_ just admitted to torturing him in those stores. He felt compelled to give her a taste of her own medicine.

He held the box up above her, displaying it just out of reach. She actually jumped a few times, comically resembling a cat after a toy, before she seemed to stir from her fixation and caught on to why he was so animatedly laughing.

She narrowed her eyes in determination. Something about the wand was drawing her, much like a cat to catnip. Hermione leapt forth, jumping and latching onto Draco. Easily he was able to support her, but conceded by flopping himself down onto the couch as she straddled him, more than happy to comply at this point.

Smoothly he raised the box behind himself, forcing her to reach forward and closer to him to grab it. She grasped the box and sat up slightly, too transfixed to even remove herself from atop her new counter part.

Opening the box she thought she heard something, a song or note, calling out to her. The wand was simple polished oak wood, and yet she hadn't seen such a lovely sight.

Promptly she grasped the wand. There was a flash of light and loud flap, like when Mrs. Weasley whipped a large sheet when hanging laundry or making a bed.

Hermione simply stared at the wand in her hand, no longer sure what all the fuss was about. Just a second ago she felt like she _had _to have it, now it seemed just like her old wand, but that wasn't to say she was ungrateful.

Draco, however, stared in awe. Truly an angel, Hermione was a sight before him. He knew of course, about her wings, as he had questioned Moody on the Angelus. But being told what he might expect from her and actually seeing it were two different things.

Hermione seemed wholly unaware that she now straddled him, with great white wings spread out behind her. Just when he was about to say something, she seemed to look up from her musings and notice his awestruck eyes. Another flash and the feathered anomalies were nowhere in sight.

"What?" she asked.

He shook his head, wanting to laugh to himself. "Nothing," he stated simply. At least his life would never be boring with her around.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

**Grieving Never Truly Ends**

Hermione yawned, suddenly feeling very tired. Her eyes blinked lazily, watering from yet another yawn. Swaying slightly, she blinked while trying to retain her balance. For a moment she thought she heard someone calling her, but she couldn't tell. Her eyes wouldn't open after she blinked once more. Her mind was going foggy.

Everything went blank.

No wings in sight, Draco watched as Hermione rapidly drifted off. Now, she lay slumped forward against him, loosely gripping her wand.

Admittedly, he was also quite tired. It had been a rather straining day, mentally at least.

Being the smart wizard he was, he had the sneaking suspicion that she fell asleep after exhausting any level of her Angelus magic.

He groaned as she scooted closer, curling up to him while she still sat astride.

"Back to this, are we Granger?" he asked in a husky voice, shifting slightly, so that she wasn't resting on such a sensitive area.

Across the room he saw, resting on the fireplace mantle, the book Dumbledore had given to Hermione. "Accio Book," he called with a flick of his wand. The book flew to him seamlessly.

After he moved Hermione to a more comfortable position, he began reading. While he was sure she would get around to reading it tonight, assuming she woke up, he was a bit curious himself to know more. After seeing those wings he couldn't help but wonder.

A couple hours later, Draco was reading the last chapter, when he began to feel that Hermione might stir sometime soon.

From what he had learned, the Angelus required sleep when their magic was unleashed without restraint and practice. The sleep followed in a ratio. Before, Hermione had slept for a whole two days, whereas now she'd only be out an hour or two.

The wings were a rare sight indeed. They only appeared upon the initial release of her dormant ability, during times of great need, or if she could manage to gain enough control.

Draco noticed there were no markings from the protrusions, which the book made no mention of, nor did it explain why he had just witnessed seeing the wings when this instance didn't fall under any of the circumstances given by the book. He wondered if the author had ever actually seen an Angelus or just written the contents based on folklore.

The last chapter of the book finally got to what he had been most concerned about, the allure of an Angelus. Being something along the lines of a Veela, the book explained that the only time an Angelus was in danger of attracting attention with their aura was after an uncontrolled admittance of their power.

Always after the first inheritance of power there was a vibe sent out which drew onlookers' gaze. Like Veela, Angelus were naturally beautiful creatures, so if a person were drawn to staring long enough, nature would take its course. It wasn't nearly as extreme or controlling as a Veela's trilling song.

This did not ease his mind. Part of him had been hoping that any attraction he was feeling for the little know-it-all would have been solely formed from her being Veela-ish in some manner.

Now, he had learned that there was nothing forced about it, and if the book was right, then the aura had faded shortly after she'd woken up in the hospital wing. This meant he was under not influence.

Neither was Snape for that matter. 'The slimy bastard,' Draco raged, suddenly becoming angry that all the male onlookers of the past day had been ogling his kitten for no reason.

"Merlin," he groaned. 'Did I just think of her as my kitten?'

Glancing down at Hermione, he stared. Sure enough now that he knew what he should be feeling, he felt oddly drawn to looking at her face. Placing a hand under her chin he let his thumb stroke her lips.

"She's off limits Draco," he stated to himself. His breath hitched as he thought she might wake up as her eyes fluttered slightly. Still sleeping, she simply clenched a fist full of his shirt and continued to drift listless in unconsciousness.

After studying her another moment he seemed to make his mind up. "I've always enjoyed breaking the rules," he muttered before dipping his head and doing what he'd been thinking about since that morning.

He claimed her lips, which were so soft and so sweet, a hungry growl sounded in the back of his throat. He didn't dare press too hard or deepen it anymore, for she'd definitely wake up then.

Not lingering in the kiss for too long, he pulled back, feeling more torn now than before. This was Granger, not some random skirt to chase and have a one night stand with. Flings were all he ever had, he didn't know anything more. Not to mention, the past six years weren't some lie to admit to and apologize for.

He wasn't sorry or remorseful over their relationship since day one. Until the last twenty-four hours, he hadn't seen Granger as anything but his bickering partner. Indeed, their civility was solely derived from the highly coined phrase, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'

Now that they were on the same side of the war, their school rivalry was put on hold, at least that's the vibe he had picked up. Being on the same side seemed to pour cool water on hot coals, since most of the animosity he received from everyone had been over his alleged support of Voldemort. In his defense, tweedle-dumb and dumber had rubbed him wrong from day one, and she had been an insufferable know-it-all with bushy hair that showed him up in class.

Too much had changed for things to remain as they were. She was far from the bushy hair and buck tooth little girl he'd remembered as, and while not much could be done about her side kicks, this growing attraction he felt was too heated to deny.

At the moment he was too wound up to think straight and after kissing Hermione, he had only managed to jumble things up even more. That single, brief, and entirely one sided kiss had been better than any other for him. Never before had he wanted to smile and laugh from sheer joy at kissing a girl.

She'd been asleep for Merlin's sake! Draco clenched and unclenched his jaw, noting how Hermione was showing faint signs of waking up sometime soon. The mere idea of being with Granger, which was what was running through his mind right then, was too ludicrous for him to think about. It made him want to pull his hair out in frustration.

Finally, unable to brood with her sleeping right before him, he ripped his shirt from her grasp, gently set her against the arm of the couch and strode out of the room. Hoping some fresh air and distance would clear his muddled mind, he made his way to the Quidditch pitch.

Slowly and cautiously Hermione opened her eyes. It seemed that each time she woke up as of late, something had gone awry or she remembered doing something inappropriate.

Indeed, she now cringed at her last memory, even though Malfoy was nowhere in her immediate sight. Malfoy had been looking at her with surprise, and she had asked, "What?"

She had been straddling him like it was the most common thing to do. Of course he would look surprised. Why had she acted so rashly? Damn wand. Being a clever witch, it didn't take her long to surmise that it had been affecting her to the point of disrupting her common sense and rational behavior.

Sitting up, she looked around. Malfoy was indeed nowhere to be found, but the book she had yet to read from Dumbledore lay on the far cushion. Picking it up, she made her way to the kitchen so that she could read and eat at the same time. Two tasks she managed along side each other quite well over the past few years.

Shortly after being drawn into the book, Hermione closed it with a thud. Hardly any of it seemed like sound fact, but Dumbledore wouldn't have given it to her otherwise.

There were still many questions left unanswered for her. Like her growing attraction the Draco. No where in the book did it state that she might begin to feel oddly drawn to the most random and least likely sorts. She sighed, realizing that all along there had been a hope within her that her crush on Draco would be justified by being an Angelus.

Resting her head on the cold counter top, part of her wallowed over the bit of information about when her powers would surface. During times of great need, that had been the night her parents were murdered, how else had Dumbledore come across the feather?

If that had been such a time of need, why hadn't she been able to do anything sooner? The book described little in the way of what an Angelus had the ability to do, so her mind began to create things.

For one, she should have felt some alarm go off, before the Death Eaters attacked, and then she should have reached her parents in time and saved them. Damn it all if she couldn't keep heroic scenarios from playing over and over in her head, each one ending with a family hug and nothing but smiles.

Her anger started to brew, and then boil. There were no smiles, not from her parents. 'They'll never smile again,' Her parents were dead and she had spent the day mooning over some guy and spending money on clothes. 'How sick am I?'

"Gods, I go and get them killed and then this is how I act?" she voiced angrily to the walls. Her heart hurt, it hurt so badly. They were gone, and it was because of her.

Not only that, but now she finds out she had abilities other than that of a witch that could have saved them, and she hadn't used them. Sure, she managed to save her own damn self, but never mind two of the most important people to her in the whole world.

"Come on, let's see this so called power!" she shouted, calling out to no one as though it should trigger some reaction. She was standing now, and abruptly chucked the book across the room. It clattered against the spices in the rack, before falling to the floor.

A loud sob surged forth, and she was doubled over on the floor before she knew what had become of herself. Tears kept coming, and her anger never abated, in fact she felt even angrier at her inability to control herself.

"Time of need my arse," she choked out, before clambering to her feet and striding out of the kitchen. "I'll show you time of need," she mumbled.

The sun was setting in red and gold hews along the horizon. Draco leaned on the side of the tower's top watching as he tried to sort his thoughts out. He'd been flying at the pitch for a bit, before he landed here and just stared off into the distance.

His heart was aching now, and he had no idea why. When had everything become so complicated?

His pensive moment was interrupted by the sound of the tower door banging open. And true to his belief that he'd never find shelter from his constant thoughts about Granger, there she stood, bringing a fresh wave of questions involving her. Why was she here? Why was she crying? Why did her eyes look so distant and lost?

Seeing Draco up at the top of the astronomy tower hardly registered in her mind. She approached him while wiping her blotchy cheeks free of salty tears. "This is because I don't think they'll come out."

She made no sense to him, and he was going to ask her what she meant by it when she had suddenly grabbed his robes pulled him down to her mouth. She was kissing him. He was sent reeling into shock. The kiss was quick and light, much as his earlier one had been, and just when he felt his senses take over and drive him to start and deepen it, it was over.

She pulled back and turned from him. With his mind in a frenzied storm of pandemonium, he didn't move for a moment. Then quick as cat, she turned tail and darted over to the ledge. His eyes widened in utter horror as she swiftly hopped up and dove off.

In what felt like an eternity, but was actually only a couple seconds, Draco felt a tirade of emotions. Disbelief at what had just transpired was foremost, then his chest constricted and his heart clenched as he realized Hermione had just leapt off the astronomy tower and would surely die as a result.

He never moved so fast and deftly in all his life. Broom near by, he managed to retrieve it and lever himself over the edge by jumping and using his left hand to push off the short stonewall.

Free falling wasted too much time, so he easily used the broom to speed himself up into a dangerous vertical dive downward. He could see her, just ahead. The ground was too close. Fear consumed him as he thought he might not make it.

Suddenly, a flash of light blinded him, and a hope sparked in the back of his mind. He'd seen that flash on a couple occasions, it only ever meant one thing. He slowed down, taking care to pull out of his dive before he met his own end.

He watched as Hermione slowed her descent and stop in the air, flying with the aid of her wings. She didn't remain airborne long though, shortly after hovering and moving out toward the lake, she settled to the ground.

Draco continued to watch, having flown nearby as well, as she gracefully wandered over to the water's edge and looked at her own reflection.

Once he got off his broom he ran over to her. "Granger!" he shouted to her with such a fierce tone her dazed mindset shattered.

While she had known what she did, she hadn't been thinking straight. Now, however, she felt herself gain control, and time seemed to begin flowing once again. She noticed her wings were gone now.

It was weird, she hadn't known what to expect, since the book didn't describe things from another Angelus' point of view. There wasn't a feeling of having wings coming out of her back, in fact when she stared at them in the water and moved them a bit, it felt like she was moving any other limb on her body, it was natural.

As Malfoy stalked over to her, she grew wary as he seemed to be angrier than she'd ever seen him before.

Draco had never felt so enraged in all his life, Granger had just leapt off the tallest tower in the castle to test if her wings would come forth, at least he deduced this much. His anger was so great that it caused a temporary inability to vocalize anything.

Chest heaving, he paced back and forth in front of Granger. "Did you just jump off the tower," he clenched his jaw, "to see what would happen?"

Hermione looked at him uncertainly, still feeling in a rather depressed mood from her earlier kitchen break down. "Yeah," she answered in a monotone voice. The fury held in Draco's eyes did more to rival that which she'd seen in Harry's.

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You," he began in a low voice, "are a BLOODY MORON!" he ended in a fierce outburst. When she didn't speak he continued, "Are you insane?"

She put her hands on her hips. "Well, I was upset and not thinking clearly," she tried to defend herself, even though her logical mind was asking just as appalled at her actions as Draco seemed to be.

"I don't think you were thinking at all, clearly or otherwise." He had never felt such fear in all his life, what if she had died? What if he had lost her? He hadn't even gotten the chance to sort his feelings out and come to the conclusion that he might like her.

"I know it was stupid ok?" She had tears in her eyes again. She was now frightened at what she'd done, but not because she was afraid of falling from high places. She was frightened because part of her had been hoping her powers would fail her like they had her parents, and then she'd be with them.

Seeing the confusion and distress within her, he pulled her to him and hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head. "What if I'd lost you?" he asked, not caring that she could hear him.

One thing was for sure now, he concluded as he carried a willing Hermione back to their dorm room. He had feelings for this girl. That was made clear as day when he almost broke down crying in relief when he realized she hadn't died.

This was ridiculous, he hardly knew her. Sure, he'd known Granger for the last six years, but not Hermione. Now, he was beginning to feel a dependence upon her. Having her near his side for the past couple days made him feel like he was missing something when she wasn't around.

It was okay though, if they went with Moody and Dumbledore's plans, then they would remain by each other's side for a long time to come. Attraction aside, he'd settle for being nothing more than partners and maybe friends some day. They would have to talk about this, and soon. If her little farewell kiss was any indication, she too was feeling something for him.

'Tomorrow then,' he decided. They would sort things out properly tomorrow. For now, they would go with the flow, and he would hold her in his arms squeezing her each time he imagined what might have happened.

Hermione held onto Draco, more certain now than ever before that he had a great affect on her heart. It would seem only he could sooth her and calm her writhing soul as she cried in pain.

Her tears ended shortly after he carried her back to their common room. As he held her, making no signs of letting go, she kept her silence and bashfully wrapped her own arms around his neck. She didn't even notice when he lay down with her on his own bed.

Every fiber of her being cried out to stay close to him, so she did. There was definitely something going on between them, from his words after she'd foolishly jumped, he cared about her. They would have to talk.

Embarrassment aside, she'd voice her feelings about matters in the morning. For now, she'd continue to listen to the steady beat of his heart while furled up against him.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

**Procrastination is Key**

The sound of crickets trilling their song drifted all the way up through Draco's window. Calming and peaceful he rested his back and head against the headboard, propped and cushioned by pillows. By doing this he was better able to watch Hermione as she slept on.

The sun would be rising in little under an hour, and that would be their day's start. Once the golden light pierced the night and crept over the horizon, his dream would end. While excuses had been made, they could not last. Dawn would mean they would talk, dawn would mean the know-it-all Granger would come to her senses and want nothing to do with him.

So he relished the last few moments he would have her in his arms willingly. If she woke up as the kitten, going on nothing but instincts, then he was almost positive she would cling to him and admit to feeling attracted to him. But, he knew what was to come. She would wake up, stable minded again, and fall into character.

The Gryffindor in her would never allow an attraction for a Slytherin. The loyal and dutiful friendship she had with Potter and Weasley would never allow her to develop feelings for a Malfoy. The levelheaded bookworm in her would never allow a boy to stand in the way of studying. The Order member in her would view any relationship as a possible casualty in a time of war.

As his hopes felt dashed and his light grew dim, he wondered about something. While he had so much going against him, there was a possibility for in his favor. Her alter ego seemed nothing but a bundle of instincts. If she feared something or someone she made it known, if she wanted something she hung on to it relentlessly. If that part were still there, then it would mean even if Granger was sound of mind, a small instinctive bit of her would want him.

"Kitten," he whispered, hardly audible, into Hermione's ear. She shifted slightly, but remained sleeping. "Come out and play kitten," he said a little louder this time, having unfounded confidence in what he was doing.

Dark chocolate eyes snapped open, dilated in the nighttime setting.

Draco smirked as he watched a short play of emotions cross the girl's face. Having succeeded, he now had a few questions. "Who are you?"

Having finally found Draco again, she wasted no time in latching onto him. "You left me!" she sobbed into his neck.

Awkwardly stroking her hair, he pressed, "Who are you?" While it had been the kitten that had triggered everything, his lack of any heated feelings for her was an obvious indication that it was the insufferable know-it-all he was attracted to.

"Granger," she intoned, smiling as though she had done something helpful.

Pushing her back away from him, trying to impress a certain wariness and importance from his end, he locked her eyes with his. "You're not Hermione Granger."

Tilting her head to the side in confusion, she just looked at him uncertainly.

"The Angelus," he started saying slowly, looking for some reaction, some indication that she knew what he was on about. He continued, "are intriguing creatures." Her eyes had widened, ever so slightly and now they seemed to become eager. "No one really knows much about them. I wondered, _Granger_, if you knew something that might help me become more informed?"

She nodded hesitantly. Gauging her answer on whether it would make him happy or not.

Smiling to encourage her, he asked, "Would you be able to answer a few questions?" After she nodded, this time more sure that it was a good thing she knew about the Angelus, he began, "Are you an Angelus?"

From the moment he had first met the kitten she had always been one for minimal words and a limited array of head nods and shakes. Now however, most sudden and unexpected, she sat back and stated evenly and with a confidence he wouldn't have thought possible from her, "Yes."

His eyes betrayed him for a split second, widening. The smirk that played across her face suddenly put him on edge. Gone was the insecure kitten, now she sat back on her haunches with an air of superiority. "Who are you?" he questioned once more, hoping repetition would eventually get him where he wanted.

Still smirking, she eyed him keenly. "I see why she likes you so much." She waited until he was about to repeat himself yet again, before cutting in, "I am as I've already answered, an Angelus."

"Yes, but a name is what I want." He wasted no time pondering the bi-polar personality of this kitten, and launched his interrogation, hoping there might be something beneficial from it.

"You don't need my name. If this girl proves worthy, then my name will be her own."

"Worthy? How?" The book made no mention of anything like this.

"There is a price for information," she said seductively, licking her lips.

He was rather unaffected by her actions, wondering how this girl who was identical to Hermione could look nothing like her at the same time. Donning his icy prince mask, he met her motion for bargaining, though dared not raise the pot himself, "Name your price."

Still smirking, she drawled, "A single kiss."

Smirking in return he nodded his compliance. No sooner had he raised his head than she had him pinned down, sensually exploring his mouth with her own. It was brief and rather dull on his part. As far as technique went, it would have been the best kiss he had ever received. And yet, Hermione's quick and chaste peck from the tower far out stripped this one. Once it was over, he sat back up, slightly breathless and wiped his mouth.

"Lucky girl," she stated simply, not at all insulted at his obvious lack of interest in her. Holding up her end of the agreement, she began, "Hermione, bless her lost little soul, has just come into her powers. I guess you could say _I _am her power. Right now, we're a world a part. As you have already noticed, we're nothing alike and can't even be in the same place at the same time. Don't get me wrong," she assured as he gave her a rather reprimanding look, "I'm not a bad person. Essentially I am Hermione. I wasn't lying before either, it was just easier for me to find out more about Hermione if I acted that way."

She paused as though trying to figure out the best way to explain a math problem to a child who just couldn't seem to get it. "The Angelus all have a counterpart in their abilities. With time and practice we will become one. It won't be easy, but once Hermione masters her power, we will be one in the same. She won't necessarily change, we'll just become a whole. Get it?"

"Yeah, I think I understand. But, can this process be sped up?" He thought about the auror training, which would surely involve her developing her powers.

"I promise to be a willing participant in the fusing if you do me another favor." She sounded sincere this time.

"What?" He was curious about what she could want now, and still a little unsure at what she'd told him.

"Stay near Hermione. I reside in her soul. It's no picnic in there. When she is grieving, my world is a hell. However, things are calmer when you're near her. If you make my time easier, I will willingly aid her and guide her along."

Not sure what she meant, he agreed. Now he had even more of an excuse to be with her, her Angelus power's wanted it. And if the kitten and Hermione were the same, as the kitten had said, then Hermione really wanted it also. Oh, the confusion. None of it made sense, and yet it all fit in his mind.

"Do you like her?" she asked, sounding a bit petty.

"I suppose that's what I'm feeling." Thinking he liked her and actually saying it, especially to someone who looked so identical, were two totally different things.

"More than me?" she pouted.

"What is more than, when you say you're the same?" he asked quizzically, totally avoiding her question.

"Humph, I see why she becomes so easily annoyed with you," she stated, crossing her arms.

The sun's rays were now noticeable, peeking over the horizon, illuminating a small section of the sky.

"Alas, she stirs," was all she said, before hugging Draco and going still.

When it rained, it poured. Nothing could ever be easy for him. The first girl he felt attracted to in a long time was Granger. He would stay by her, but how close was too close? Where would the head strong Gryffindor draw the line? He could only await her reaction nervously.

Maybe, if he didn't give her time to think matters over, then she wouldn't be able to come to her logical conclusion that they could never be anything more than civil partners.

Part of him was resentful that he would even have to resort to any measures just to get her take him into consideration. After all, he was Draco Malfoy, prince of Slytherin, every young witch's fantasy. Why did he have to go to such lengths for this?

'Because, she's the princess of Gryffindor and one third of the golden trio,' he answered himself.

Had Draco stopped to think even more, he would have realized they were suited for each other more than anyone noticed. They were both the top two students of their grade, both Head Boy and Girl, and both deemed worthy of being aurors. And, history aside, they would have made a rather fitting pair. The only tiny stipulation was they had been mortal enemies for the past six years.

They would have to talk. It was inevitable, but he couldn't help but feel that procrastination would swing her feelings in his favor.

"Granger," he called, in a tone that betrayed nothing of his feelings or recent events. Her eyes squeezed shut before fluttering open. "There's no rest for the wicked. Moody will be waiting. Let's go."

Slowly, she seemed to come to. Not even registering anything peculiar about waking up beside Malfoy while in his bedroom, on the same bed. In fact, she simply rolled over, and clambered out of bed, scratching her head and rubbing her face. Oddly, her body didn't feel like it had just woken up.

Taking a deep breath, she chose to ignore the facts before her and the events of last night. There was no quick answer. The simple truth was they could _never_ see each other. She may have found him tantalizing and mouthwatering hot, but a simple attraction was not enough to put everything on the line.

She wanted to linger in the 'what-if' stage they were at. Right now, it was not a settled issue.

Would they close the matter and agree to never mention it again or would they actually go for it? Her brain knew they would not be trying anything, as it was Malfoy, and she did not string his name along in the same sentence as boyfriend. Her heart knew that her grief seemed less when he held her and her body felt a pull that made her senseless.

The conflict was too great to contemplate at the moment, so she followed his lead and acted as though nothing was different. "If he's waiting at this hour, then he is truly one peg legged bastard who takes training far too seriously," she mumbled, searching for her wand, which ended up being in the kitchen.

There would be no use in getting ready or changing clothes, as they would be sweaty and dirty within the first hour. Moody was indeed down at the pitch, waiting impatiently for the two. "Ten laps!" he barked.

Immediately, Draco began to trot and then run along the perimeter. Hermione, groaning, got the idea and followed. It was then that she felt stiffness in her joints and soreness in her muscles, no doubt from the previous day. Much like before, Draco's lead lengthened and her ability to keep moving lessened. Merlin help her, for the day when she would be in better shape could not come fast enough.

By the end of her tenth lap, Hermione seemed to have reached a solid resolve for her day of training. Gasping for breath, she continued jogging even over to the middle to the field to meet Moody and Malfoy. Dobby was once again waiting with bottled water, bless his little heart.

The morning went by in a blur of shielding charms and disarming spells, as she was shown proper stances and movements that would help lessen holes and gaps in her defense and strengthen her chances of a successful attack.

Moody had growled over and over that half of what made the shield strong was her will and resolve behind it, not just her concentration.

He lectured her on how she needed to be able to multi task everything. Her concentration had to be able to apply to different areas all at once. If she were thinking about the defensive charm she also had to be simultaneously thinking about an offensive one, otherwise her attack would not be quick enough. But, in thinking about her next attack, she couldn't waver in thinking about her defense and let the opponent get passed her.

After Draco and Moody had broken her shield, sending her flying back with a bruising thud several times, Moody tried to change his explanation.

"Granger!" he shouted over to her after one particularly harsh landing. Her charms were nothing more than what the students had been able to learn in class. Real life was not so kind. The higher the stakes, the greater the power involved. And they were dealing in life and death, it didn't get much more extreme than that.

"What?" she wheezed out, no wind left in her. Slowly, she climbed to her own feet, unsteady for a moment.

"Why do you have so much fear?" he asked, walking over towards her. "When you're attacking and defending, all I see is fear reflected within your movements. Where is your resolve?"

"Sir?" Hermione asked. 'What is he on about?' she wondered. 'I've just spent the last hour getting my arse kicked and he says I have no resolve?'

"Each time you defend yourself, I see fear," he said most severely, "Granger, it's never 'I'm _afraid_ of being hit.' or 'I'm _afraid _to hit the other person.' It must always be, 'I _won't_ get hit.' and 'I _will _hit my opponent.'" He waited for some sort of understanding from her.

Inhaling deeply, Hermione closed her eyes and thought about Moody's words. She could do this. It was far more difficult than anything she'd ever tried in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which was apparently child's play according to Moody. He was right. After the first time she'd been hit and thrown backwards, she'd been afraid to have it happen again. Getting up and trying over and over didn't mean she had resolve, it just meant she was determined and stubborn.

Standing firmly, Hermione crouched low, wand at the ready. She closed her eyes for a moment, searching her mind. Opening her eyes, the world seemed slightly different. Her senses seemed heightened.

A slight nod on her end indicated she was ready for another go. Instantly, a flash of dark blue light was sent her way. "Defendo!" she cried. A red shield sprang forth, knocking Draco's spell wayward.

"Better!" Moody called, "Keep going!"

Again, another burst of light, slightly further to the right this time. She deflected it with a bit more confidence this time, again having the same result. It was a couple more times of playing defense before she made her move and sent her own spell at him. While it was easily stopped, it wasn't rebounded back at her as her other's had been. Draco had obviously been less able to control it, showing that it had more punch behind it.

"Pincer!" Moody bellowed.

Out of nowhere, Draco seemed to have moved in direct line behind her while Moody was in front. There had been no sounds of apparition, and yet they had moved inhumanly fast.

The next thing she knew there was a red streak to her left and a yellow to her right. They had ganged up on her, leaving her little time to react. But, react she did. Something inside of her held her in place a split second longer than she would have stayed, but promptly after, she dove forward, somersaulting onto the grass.

She gained her footing again as quickly as possible. Without knowing why, she sent a shield up on her right side, and then an 'Expelliarmus' to her left. She heard Moody grunt off in the direction of her last spell, so without hesitation she called, "Accio Moody's wand!" Sure enough, his wand flew to her. But, in the time she'd wrapped her hand around it, Draco had his own wand pressed to her throat.

"That, Granger, is what we call a sacrifice for the greater goal." Draco lowered his wand and ruffled her hair. "Isn't that right old man?"

Hermione was breathless, slightly confused, and totally in awe of Draco's undetectable movements. She was a little unnerved when she noticed how her head felt warm where he had mussed her hair.

"Yeah," Moody growled, yanking his wand back from Hermione. "Except, you were supposed to be the sacrifice, little boy."

Hermione was still slightly dazed, riding the adrenaline rush she had gotten from the whole experience. The world came back into focus however as she heard Malfoy laughing at Moody's words.

"Tell her that, not me," he defended himself. Giving her a wry smile, he watched as Hermione seemed to blush. Sighing, he wondered how much longer they could put off talking.

"Better?" Hermione asked.

Moody took a moment. "Yes, but far from good."

"Please old man, it took me a week to get that far and you told me I was a natural," Draco put in.

Moody snorted, "Would you have accepted anything less?"

Draco clutched his heart, then placing his sneer back on, said, "I think you're just upset she got the better of you."

Hermione felt drawn in to the almost jovial exchanging of retorts. "I'll have both your wands in my hand by the weeks end."

"Don't flatter yourself just yet Granger," Malfoy sneered, seemingly more willing to speak highly of her to Moody than her own face. "He's getting senile and I'm still a newbie. Even if you managed it, it wouldn't be something to brag about."

A fire seemed to dance in her eyes, she loved a good challenge. "I'll bring you to you knees Malfoy, wait and see."

Draco flushed. How could she put words out there like that and not flinch at the blatant innuendo in them. Merlin, help him if he wasn't attracted to the most naïve girl in the entire wizarding world.

Moody clapped him on the shoulder. "Lunch break," he sniggered, almost feeling sorry for the lad.

"We'll see," was all the blonde could answer her with, not trusting his voice at the moment.

The three of them walked back to the castle. Once they reached the steps Hermione asked, "How do you move so fast?"

Moody's eye swiveled over to her. "That's a lesson a bit farther down the road."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

**Assumptions and Assignments**

"Check mate!" Ron exclaimed jovially.

It was the fourth time in little over an hour that Ron had whooped Harry at wizard's chess. Harry was spending the weekend at The Burrow, mainly because Mrs. Weasley's incessant nagging was about to drive him insane.

While he loved her like his own mother, she could get annoying when she kept pushing for something.

Of course it was a chance for Harry to hang out with Ron, but he had been somewhat immersed in his training with Dumbledore. Both boys had been slightly taken aback during the meeting when Moody wanted to train Hermione to be an auror. Not long after, they felt a little resentful that she would be offered and not them.

After all, they did everything together. And, was it not Harry who would have to fight Voldemort in the end? Why wasn't he the one to receive such training?

His qualms were put to rest however, when Dumbledore approached him and made clear his intentions to help Harry control his power better. All those times when he became overly angry or excited, or any heightened emotion, there seemed a raw force about him.

It was entirely uncontrolled, and far too dangerous to remain so as he was growing older. It wouldn't be long before his power grew so much that a sneeze would send a blast forth and knock down the nearest wall. Already from their first lesson Harry was trying to get the hang of wandless magic, which he found most interesting.

It was because he was putting his all into practicing that he didn't want to be deterred by a visit to The Burrow. He knew that a weekend trip could very well turn into a summer's end stay.

The occlumency lessons had also been picked back up, much to his dismay. There were a million things for him to worry about and it was still summer. Each time he and Dumbledore met, which had almost been a daily basis, there seemed urgency for him to learn complete control.

* * *

A few days prior, Harry had flat out asked Dumbledore what was wrong, only to have more worries added to his plate. It was something about turning seventeen, a wizard's inheritance of adulthood and hidden power.

As it was the end of July and Dumbledore still felt Harry had a ways to go in their lessons, he was becoming concerned over what might happen when the clock finally struck midnight.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Harry asked, becoming rather concerned.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Nothing too severe, I think you have managed to develop enough control to handle whatever awaits." His eyes sparkled as Harry used a silent and wandless 'Accio' for a drink. "I think, Harry, that perhaps that trip to The Burrow wouldn't be as distracting as you might think?"

"Sir?" he asked, taking a sip from his glass of pumpkin juice.

"Well, Molly has begun to press the matter with me, for one thing." His eyes danced with mirth as Harry nearly sprayed his mouth full of juice all over. "And for another, being with Ron would help you to relax. Part of what we learn is how to relax our minds."

Harry nodded in ascension. Then he thought about Hermione. "Professor, can Hermione come as well? It would be more relaxing if we were all together."

"No, I'm afraid not. She has her own agenda right now. Moody tells me that because she is coming along so well, that he has created a course of training unlike any used before."

This time Harry did spray his juice, wiping his mouth with his robe sleeve he looked incredulously up at the old wizard. "She's what? She's actually training to be an _auror? Hermione?"_

Dumbledore furrowed his brows, quite confused at Harry's reaction. "Did you not know from the Order meeting several weeks ago?"

Harry was on his feet now. "I knew Moody wanted her to, but the reaction she had, told me she wouldn't have anything to do with it. I assumed she was at Hogwarts held up in the library, reading. That's what Hermione does. She _doesn't _train to become an auror! How could you let her do this? Why didn't you tell me?" Now his tone was accusing.

"Harry, it was never a secret. I thought you knew. And I'm certain that Miss Granger does more than read. She is coming along quite nicely, very apt for it both mentally and physically."

* * *

Outside it was pouring rain, far too heavy to do anything but stay inside and play chess. Mrs. Weasley was making dinner, Ginny was reading a book on the sofa, and Harry and Ron were on the floor playing their game.

Harry had only arrived that afternoon. "Harry? What's wrong?" Ron asked, seeing the pensive look clouding Harry's eyes.

"Nothing," the dark haired boy mumbled, still partly stuck on the memory.

"Right," Ron said sarcastically, while rolling his eyes. "That look on your face is for nothing, and both Fred and George are perfect angels."

"It's Hermione," Harry conceded, now thinking it might be a good idea to discuss it with Ron.

At the mention of Hermione's name, Ginny set her book down and slid to the floor beside Ron. "How's her training coming?" she asked nonchalantly, and yet there was something forced about it. "Have you heard back on the practical?"

Both Harry and Ron looked at the younger redhead in surprise.

"How'd you know?" Harry asked.

"Know what?" Ron overrode. "Wait, what training?" He wasn't necessarily angry at Ginny or Harry, but his voice still held anger.

"Simmer down now," Ginny chastised with a wave of her hand. "I haven't heard from Hermione in a bit, so I was wondering how everything was coming along. Last I heard they were having some sort of real life practical. It sounded dangerous."

"What?" both boys intoned loudly, so that Mrs. Weasley came into the living room to see what the matter was.

"Sorry Mum, it's nothing. Harry just managed to beat me in chess is all."

"Honestly Ron, you can't expect to win all the time," Mrs. Weasley said before going back to flavor the stew.

Ron seemed at a loss for words, so Harry asked his own questions. "Since when has Hermione talked to you about all this?"

Ginny took this rather offensively. "For one thing, Hermione and I have always been friends. And for another, she told me in her letter. I've been writing to her all summer. Don't tell me she didn't say anything in her letters to you?"

"She never sent me any letters to begin with!" Harry was getting a little upset. Since when did Ginny know more about their 'Mione than they did?

"Harry." Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Did you even write to her?"

His mouth fell open, now that she pointed it out it seemed more obvious that he couldn't expect Hermione to write them if they didn't write her. "Uh," he started, not liking the wrath held in the young girl's eyes, she could be vicious if she wanted to. "If I said 'no', what would you do?"

"Harry James Potter!" she ranted. "Are you telling me you didn't write Hermione once? Not once? She just lost her parents and is living at the school for lack of better arrangements, and you, her best friend, never wrote her?"

Now he just felt down right guilty. Although he'd been a bit preoccupied, he couldn't make much of an excuse. "She could have written us first," he stated lamely, not really having much more to defend himself with.

"Sure, because she hasn't been more than busy. Never mind her dawn to dusk schedule. Never mind that even outside of training, she and Malfoy have to stay focused and glued at the hip. I'm lucky I've received any replies at all, I really don't know where she found the time to write me, but she did and they were really nice too. Not the quick replies I get from you or Dean." Ginny had said it all in almost a single breath, now she was huffing.

"Ok, I'm sorry," Harry gave in. It would be no use to argue and in truth he now felt bad. He'd been quick to blame everyone except himself.

"Harry," Ron began, finding his words through his shock. "Did Hermione accept Moody's offer?" Part of his voice sounded like he already knew the truth while the other part seemed to think it was impossible.

Using the same tactic he had with Ginny he tried to break the news in a more Fred and George like fashion. "If I said 'yes', what would you do?"

For once in his life Ronald Weasley didn't blow up when it most certainly would have been justified, from Harry's view anyway. Instead he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, much like his father did after a rough night with the Ministry. "Ginny, would you go get the letters for Harry and me to read?" he asked calmly, seemingly resigned to some fate.

"Sure," she said meekly, sensing he was so upset he couldn't even react in his usual manner.

While Ginny was upstairs, Harry tried to fill him in on what he knew from Dumbledore. "I didn't know until Dumbledore told me the other day. It seems he agreed with Moody and Hermione accepted right away."

"But, that night, she sounded upset at the whole idea. Why would she say yes?" Ron was honestly at a loss here. Their Hermione had actually begun training to be an auror. Harry was supposed to be an auror. Hell, even he was, but never their 'Mione. She was small and fragile and a bookworm. Sure, she'd gone on all their dangerous adventures, but while he and Harry would run she would struggle to keep up. While they leapt forth into oncoming danger, she was reluctant, wanting to find an adult.

"I don't know why she agreed. What I would like to know is why we are the last to find out?"

A nod from Ron showed his agreement.

Ginny came bounding down the stairs, she was holding a pile of papers. "Hmm, they're out of order, give me second." She rifled through them placing one before the other. Then she took her seat in the chair. "Why don't I read them to you?"

Eyes fixed on her, the two boys waited for her to begin. She coughed and then began, in a slightly more regal and proper tone they tended to associate with their perfect Prefect.

"_Dear Ginny, _

_Thank you for being so concerned about me. I promise you that I'm fine. I miss them a lot, but if I don't move on I'll never get anywhere. In all honesty, being with Malfoy is helping a lot, I can't explain it." _

She paused to gauge their reactions at the mention of the ferret's name. Oh, they looked livid.

"_Moody is relentless, I've never been so sore or tired in all my life. But it's all so exciting! I'm doing things I never thought possible. Just today he started teaching me something called, 'flash step'. It's how some aurors move so fast. I haven't been able to actually do it yet, but Moody says that's to be expected. How are Harry and Ron? They're probably angry with me, I understand. Maybe they'll cool off over the summer. I don't know if you've heard yet, since you didn't mention it in the letter, but I'm an Angelus! I can't explain much about it right now, since I'm still learning myself. Dumbledore gave me a book on them, but it wasn't very helpful. I have to go now, Malfoy is complaining about dinner._

_Sincerely, _

_Hermione"_

Taking on a more normal tone of voice Ginny said, "Well that's the first one. When I wrote back I told her that I'd gone to Mum to ask about the Angelus thing. I also asked her about why she was with Malfoy. I was a bit angry that she mentioned the ferret, and even more that she seemed to be hanging out with him."

"You're telling me," Ron barked, seething at her letter. Hermione sounded like what she was doing was the most common thing in the world. "What the bloody hell is she doing with Malfoy?"

"That's what I wondered," stated Ginny, with a tone that made both boys peer at her cautiously. "Until, Hermione explained to me that Draco Malfoy was on our side!" Her voice was becoming louder with each syllable. "Neither of you thought it feasible that I might want to know something like that?" It would seem Ginny had a whole mess of anger to take out on them this night. "Hermione was shocked I didn't know. Apparently, we both had the crazy notion that one of you would have told me." She stared pointedly at her brother. "Ron!" she accused.

"What?" he asked as though it was just as much Harry's duty to keep her informed as it was his own, even though Harry hadn't seen her all summer and he had seen her everyday.

"I wasn't going to say anything, since I found out eventually, albeit a little late and from Hermione, who I haven't seen every single day. But now that I know neither of you have talked to Hermione I think you deserve a lecture." One hand on her hip she raised the next letter, smirked, and then she shifted passed the next two letters to come to the last one.

"_Dear Ginny, _

_You were right, before. There is too much going on for any more distractions. We work well enough together. Actually, it's more than that. We work perfectly together. I know how you feel not knowing how he came to be with us. In truth he hasn't told me yet, but then again, I haven't asked. It's not my place, if he wants me to know he'll tell me. I understand that you don't trust him, but I do. He's my partner. I don't think I've ever trusted any other person so much, except Harry and Ron. _

_Ginny, I'm nervous. Moody says we have a practical in two days. I can't disclose details for obvious reasons, but suffice to say we'll be on an actual assignment. Draco assures me that everything will be fine, but I have a bad feeling about it. Something is going to happen I just know it. I haven't felt like this since the night of my parent's death. I don't know what's going to happen, but promise me that for the next week, you'll stay at The Burrow and not go anywhere. I have to go now. Moody wants to do some drill in the Forbidden Forest tonight. _

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. Stay safe! Watch Harry and Ron, don't let them go anywhere!"_

Once she finished reading, she seemed most solemn. The vengeful little devil in her had read this letter specifically to rile them up over Hermione's apparent attachment to ferret boy. And she was not let down, as they both seemed aghast at Hermione's mention of trust. But, her relishing of the moment was short lived as a more pressing matter brought her back.

Harry and Ron knew nothing, and they had been her last hope of reassurance. "You guys, I lied before," she began in a concerned tone.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked

"This letter, was written two weeks ago and I've sent five others back to her, but she hasn't replied yet. Pig keeps coming back with my letters unopened." She gulped. "He wasn't able to find her. I even tried using another owl, in case Pig was just being stupid, but it was the same."

"What?" Ron was on his feet now, looming over his little sister, who seemed oddly dwarfed by him. "Why didn't you tell us before?"

As a Weasley she wasn't about to be intimidated or back down. "I thought you knew! You were both playing chess so calmly. I assumed you knew she was safe and sound, and just left me out of the loop as you're so prone to doing!"

Ginny's hands were back on her hips in a very Mrs. Weasley like fashion. "Then, when Harry looked upset and said it was because of Hermione, my heart almost stopped beating. And then I found out you two knew less than I did! What did you want me to say? 'Hey guys, Hermione is training as an auror and has suddenly disappeared while on an assignment.' Oh, yeah. I can see that one going over real well." She rolled her eyes.

"Let's go," Ron said, moving toward the front door and grabbing is cloak.

"Where?" Ginny asked, completely lost.

"To find Hermione and get some answers," Harry answered, having the same train of thought as Ron. As the three of them left, he mumbled something along the lines of, 'Bloody fed up with no one ever telling us what's going on… freakin' ferret, I'll kill him.'

Mrs. Weasley had called the children to dinner at least three times. None of them had come into the kitchen. It didn't take that long to wash up, especially when they hadn't been outside in the rain or anything.

She walked into the living room only to find it empty. Part of her was a little worried by this. As a mother she was constantly concerned about her kids, but as the mother of some of the most trouble finding kids in the world, she was usually worried about them non stop.

As she rushed to the stairs, ready to search the house, she noticed the clock. Ron and Ginny's hands indicated that they were traveling.

"TRAVELING!" she shouted.

She flooed the Headmaster faster than an auror's flash step. He assured her that Tearnogh and Cody were all over the situation. All three of them were perfectly safe and supposedly headed for the school. His words gave her little relief.

"Albus," she began. "Any word from Moody or Hermione?" she asked, having her own theories on why Ron, Harry, and Ginny must have left.

"I'm afraid not. I leave it in Alastor's hands. I'm sorry to say though that Harry knew nothing about what's been going on. Once he gets here, I'll have to explain everything to him. I'm afraid my time was cut short before. The last thing we need is for any of them to go looking for our Head Girl and Boy."

"I'll be there shortly, I have a feeling Remus should be there too," she said, having the motherly instinct that the two boys might be hard to handle in a state of provoked concern.

Every Order member knew about what had been going on. In fact it had been a point of topic at nearly every meeting. How could they not have known?

Sometimes she questioned the maturity of the two boys. They didn't think before they acted and they expected everyone around them to keep them informed without having to ask questions.

This was going to be a very long night indeed.

After casting a spell on the food to keep it warm and then writing a short note for Arthur, she left for Headquarters.

* * *

Draco Malfoy came staggering out of the Forbidden Forest supported by Hermione Granger. He was limping heavily, trying his best to keep his weight on his right leg.

Hermione stayed at his left side, pulling his arm around her shoulders so that he could lean on her as he stepped with his left foot. She was surprisingly able to help even though her frame was so much smaller than his.

Rain poured down in heavy sheets, soaking them both to the bone. In the forest it was just rain, out in the open, it was free swimming at the YMCA. The ground was slick, so they both tread carefully, not sure they could stand up once they fell.

"Nearly there," she whispered hoarsely.

The lights of the castle were not visible yet, but if they were out of the forest then they must be getting closer. She considered just going to Hagrid's hut, but they would both need Madame Pomfrey, so it would be best to just bite the bullet and walk the extra length. None of this would have been a problem if Moody had just allowed them to use their wands.

"Thanks, I never would have guessed," he grunted sarcastically, though half the grunt was from the ache in his chest. A broken rib would do that.

"I can see you'll be just fine," she commented, ignoring his sarcasm, since he wasn't in the happiest of moods right now.

The walk seemed to stretch for another hour, but in reality they made it to the grand oak doors in ten minutes. Pushing with the last bit of her own strength, one of the doors shifted open for her.

They went tumbling inside, landing hard on the cold stone floor. The hall was dim, no lights. Falling rain reverberated up and down the desolate corridor, sounding a little distant.

Once Draco hit the floor, he cried out in a loud grunt. Now he was on his back, biting his lip in pain and trying to hold on to consciousness. Hermione lay nearby. "Are we done?" he asked, knowing the answer, but wanting both their consent.

"Yes," she mumbled, shifting in a crawl to lay closer to him.

"Bloody hell," he said, before reaching inside his cloak, gently, and taking out a small vile of orange liquid. As Hermione came closer, he smiled. "Bet I last longer than you," he provoked.

"In your dreams Malfoy," she stated with conviction, while desperately clinging to her last thread of conscious thought.

In one final effort, he rolled onto his side, wanting to scream at what it did to his ribs, and draped an arm over Hermione. Then he threw the small glass vile at the wall, smashing it to pieces.

The orange liquid splashed around the sharp shards, before evaporating into an orange cloud and whisking away through the open door.

Looking down he saw Hermione was already out, now he had no reason to stay awake. He too joined her in a well-deserved rest of victory.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

**Druids Mantra**

The signal had been given. All was well. They had done their task, surprisingly fast.

Moody had hinted that the practical would be naught but a couple days of staking out and setting the trap. The old auror knew however, that such an assignment would most likely go terribly wrong, causing them to improvise.

A little less than two weeks wasn't bad. He was satisfied, which was a hard thing to do. Part of Moody's job as a senior auror, or Untouchable as some liked to call it, was resolving problems in a manner of utmost convenience and strategic gain.

It was rare that an Auror could be used to go undercover as a younger witch or wizard, because anyone who became an auror didn't do so until they were in adulthood. There was always the Polyjuice potion. But, personal dislike for the thing disregarded, it was inconvenient. There were also glamors, but any strong glamors were highly detectible to the trained eye.

Besides, role-playing was made harder when you were of a further mind set from the role being played, so appearances aside it was still difficult.

The closest person he might find capable of acting like a student and pass decently would have been Tonks. There was always a request he could put in to have an outsider sent in from another branch that was outside of Britain and his own jurisdiction with the Ministry.

But, the odds of Alastor Moody calling in reinforcements that he hadn't spent more than a year getting to know, was slim to none.

Hermione and Draco proved to be a most suitable choice. They were young, still students, and they were trained well enough. They weren't full-fledged Aurors, rookies at best, but this also wasn't a case that needed an Untouchable's hand.

The operation dealt with a rising threat and concern within the private magical academy called Druids Mantra. This school was one of the most strict and old fashion magical learning facilities known. In fact, for the most part it wasn't _known_. The brainiac kitten hadn't even heard of it, and neither had most of the world, the magical world anyway.

Moody's colleagues were less apt to even refer to the place as a school and more prone to saying, 'Druids Mantra, oh yeah the Tyrannical Boot Camp of Dark Arts.'

The truth was, he didn't agree with its strictness to adhering so closely to the rules. There were some rules he felt should not be followed. No matter whose opinion, Druids Mantra remained an issue for them. Not the Order, but the A.D.F., Auror Defense Force.

There may have been a war going on, but one war did not mean the rest of the world came to a halt in its actions, good or bad. For the most part, Voldemort's threat was Britain's focus, because it was centered there. Though it did adversely affect the rest of the world, magical and muggle, there were other things happening as well.

It would never occur to Moody that Hermione and Draco's first assignment should have anything to do with the Dark Lord. In fact, had he thought about it, he would have felt it was best for it not to. They were going to be Aurors, before and hopefully after the final battle. Even before Riddle had gone on a trigger-happy power-tripping rampage, Aurors were needed.

The issue Hermione and Draco had to deal with was the strange disappearances of several of Druids Mantra's students. Four students in total, in just under two weeks.

Though there was no Daily Prophet in Italy, such news had a way of being on the radar no matter where it was coming from. Malfoy and Granger were employed over seas and far from reach in Genova, Italy.

The operation, code named The Retrieval, as it was their job to find and retrieve these four students. The assignment required the two new recruits to enroll as students and take matters into their own hands as they saw fit.

What made it a practical for them were the guidelines Moody set. They would fail immediately if their identities were discovered, if they were sufficiently suspected of not being just students, if they used magic other than as required for schooling, if they argued pettily with each other as they had been every bloody moment, and if either of them died.

It wasn't as though this was their final test or anything, so if they broke any rule other than the last one, they'd probably be fine.

Once again, it came down to a matter of convenience. Should they complete the mission in its entirety, the D.A.D.F, Department of Auror Defense Force, would have one less problem to deal with.

He was in no way, maybe just a little, skiving of certain tasks to the rookie recruits just because they were having a bit of an overload now that Voldemort felt up for public declarations of insanity.

The only sticky part about the whole situation, which made him seriously consider not giving this assignment, was that they had no contacts within Druids Mantra. No contacts meant the two kiddies had no safety net and he had no progress reports.

If he hadn't been so damn attached to the blonde prat of boy he would not have let them go. As it played out though, Malfoy had affirmed they'd be capable and responsible enough to seek help if needed.

The boy's words echoed in his head, bless his snide little heart, 'Listen old man! It won't be long before I can sufficiently kick your ass, so give me the benefit of the doubt here!'

So, Moody had. His newest trainees had left in a most vulnerable manner. They were inexperienced rookies, they fought like cats and dogs, they had no back up, and they were far enough away that the nearest back up would never make it in time if the situation called for it. Yet, he did have every confidence in them, hence his guidelines to make the challenge harder.

* * *

Genova, Italy was breathtaking in Hermione's opinion. Then again, she wasn't the most seasoned traveler, only ever going as far as France.

While Hermione acted like an excited little kitten, pawing Draco to point out something she found fascinating each time they turned the corner, Draco remained calmer. He was determined to be successful on this mission, if it was the last thing he ever did, which it very well might be.

Hermione's excitement had been short lived however, as they soon found themselves swept up in the demands of their task.

Their job was made no easier by the fact that there were no suspects or clues as to what had happened. All they had been given was a file containing past speculations and marring events on the school's name.

Druids Mantra was far from a well-reputed school. Prestigious and near impossible to get into, yes. As for its reputation, it was more than sinister and shadowy.

The focus and stress it put on the teachings of the darker magics made Durmstrang look like a school geared for peace negotiations and flower arrangement.

The fact that Hermione hadn't even heard of it, in all the books she had read pertaining to magical history around the world or schools through out all nations, only made the secretive discreteness seem sketchy. No one wanted to keep a secret unless there was something that needed to be hidden, such as illegal actions and the disappearance of four students.

The students may not have been all that reputable to begin with, but the students' families were influential. One girl was actually the niece of the former Minister of Magic. Fudge was only recently out of office.

It irked Hermione that young Adriana was Fudge's brother's daughter, and also the fourth to disappear. Never mind that three kids had vanished, as soon as this girl followed, the alarms went off.

Strict and old fashion for Druids Mantra meant the pure blood idealism that Salazar spouted off so many years ago. If Salazar had a radically traditional cousin, the founder of Druids Mantra was it.

There was so much irony in Hermione being there, in front of a great temple like building.

For starters, her presence and hopeful completion of the mission was an epitome of irony for the school's downfall. She was muggleborn to them, a phrase that was akin to Voldemort's name among the common populace of Britain, a forbidden title.

Another factor was that while this little escapade Moody had sent them on had no connection to Voldemort, it seemed like there was an all too familiar theme about it.

Finally, she couldn't help but give thought to Malfoy's current standing on blood purity. For the past six years he had ridiculed her for having muggle parents. They had been enemies on that basis.

If she considered it, he hadn't actually made point of her lineage for over a year, but their loathing hadn't died down any. So, she couldn't help but wonder if he held his old ideals or if he had grown up and seen the truth that surrounded him.

She inhaled deeply, falling into step beside him as they climbed the many steps up to the tall ionic pillars that created the entryway.

Asking him any of the questions now swarming her mind was out of bounds. Malfoy hadn't seemed too keen on divulging any information regarding his sudden change of heart, so she couldn't very well ask pointedly. Whatever she might learn, and whenever it might be, would have to be done so at a certain pace. In time, she felt certain Draco would tell her everything, or let her know little by little.

It had been their tacit agreement as partners to not keep each other out of the loop. Moody had expressed his ill will at their continued rivalry, but said that as long as they remained close and understood each other, he would over look it as the sort of fighting between siblings.

Bickering was all they had known how to do with each other, and would remain with them for a long time, no matter how their relationship changed. The fact that they still argued and fought with each other now, after their relationship had already changed quite a bit, was testimony to that.

To say they regarded one another in same way as they had before summer had begun would be a blatant lie. There still remained an undeniable connection between them.

Draco had thought to describe it with various words, not liking the way any of them sounded even in his head. _Attraction_ and _affection_ were the two most widely used at times, but since both made him wince when he strung them along as adjectives, he settled for _trusted partner_ and _altered perspective_.

They had never had a talk that involved either pouring their hearts out. Draco wouldn't have done that for any amount of glory in the world. After the night Hermione had so stupidly gone tower jumping, he had known he held affection for the girl. Why else would he have felt his heart stop at the mere thought of losing her?

Now, when he found himself absentmindedly staring at her face and halo of golden brown curls, he knew the slight kindling of desire within was attraction. Why else would he occasionally find himself wanting to caress her face and wrap his fist up in her hair possessively?

However, they had simply admitted that something had changed and that what _it _was, could never be.

History aside, for it didn't seem relevant for present circumstances, their lives were too messy as it was. There was a war, one that they had invariably become even more involved in. Their training encouraged no distractions from the Auror's way of life. Between focused efforts and determination to bring Voldemort down, they both seemed in agreement that romantically inclined desire was a road not to be traveled.

So, they had returned to a somewhat more normal relationship. Always bickering and competing with each other, which actually proved useful as it spurred them both to do better in training. He wondered if Hermione would have come half as far, had she not been harboring an overwhelming need to match his own skill.

Amazingly, she had managed a single flash step on the fourth night of practice. He of course knew that she had been trying relentlessly during the off hours of the late night, but he mentioned nothing. Now, her movements were on par with his, if only a little less confident. She hadn't mastered her Angelus powers yet, and he hadn't seen tail or whisker of the kitten.

But, he knew things were progressing. He had been witness to Hermione's wings, beautiful and enchanting as the rest of her, on three separate occasions.

It totaled five times that he'd seen them appear. The first had been when she held her new wand. The second was after she'd decided to test just how little cushioning the Hogwarts grass would have after a high fall.

The other three were all during training. Once after Moody hit the tail end of her broom and dismounted her, then again after the crazed Auror decided to test a theory and shoved her off another tower. Draco had nearly had a heart attack at that. The most recent had been upon her own bidding. Though it had taken her a good hour of just standing there and concentrating, she had managed to release them. She was dead tired afterwards, perspiring from determined focus and nearly fainting right after she'd finally managed it.

The only other ability any of them had thought to hone was her healing, which had proved far more agreeable. While she couldn't do it as easy as flipping a light switch, she was able to use it when needed and without too much effort.

As if her developing abilities were in part from the kitten's cooperation, he kept his end of their bargain. For hardly more than two minutes had he been away from Hermione. It was almost as though they were glued at the hip, never to leave each other's side again. In fact, there were several nights when sleep didn't even separate them, which they had both blamed on utter exhaustion after training.

Some nights, they had been too tired to make it to their bedrooms, so they had crashed together on the couch, or Hermione had been too tired to walk the extra flight of stairs and simply followed Draco into his bed. The absolute calm and serene feeling they had from laying beside one another during such unguarded times had nothing to with it, for the most part.

Now, they were partners, understandably close to each other, trusting and reliant. If one of them had a thought it was likely the other could finish it. When dodging a well-directed spell, Draco would think to move left and Hermione would follow as quickly as if she had been thinking it herself.

She would finish writing her letter to the Weasley female no sooner than he thought to mention he wanted to eat dinner. After a short month together, they moved in perfect harmony and synchronization that it was beyond the realms of normal. But, actions did not speak louder than words in their case, as they continued to be indifferent and take jabs at each other.

However, the arguing and sarcastic comments held an almost kind and familiarity of tone that it could hardly be considered _hurtful. _

As they approached the front entrance, which was oddly a set of double glass doors, he lovingly and intimately placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her in. Though it was all a part of the image they were trying to present, it felt right.

The second the doors opened, the two of them were accosted by a sever gaze from the secretary behind a lavish marble desk. If this had been a hotel, Hermione would have thought the woman to be some kind of concierge.

"The Valor twins?" the snarky woman asked in a harsh and terse voice.

Hermione had become accustomed to being able to understand what everyone around her was saying even though they were all speaking Italian. She had known since her second year about various spells that allowed to castor to understand and speak other languages.

There were many variations to such spells. The one in particular that she and Draco were using was a bit more long term and complex. The alteration took place not with their vocal cords or hearing as others might have, but in their minds, where comprehension dawned. So, when they heard the foreign words, they understood the meaning, and when they formed a thought to be voiced, they merely needed to want it to come out in Italian for it to do so.

Knowing the effects of the spell didn't make her any less surprised and excited at first hearing random conversations from those around her once they'd arrived. Draco had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep her from suddenly intruding into one couples conversation over the proper ingredients of the Wolfs Bane potion. She had been so excited to try speaking with other people and to share her vast knowledge with someone who didn't assume she knew everything. She had completely ignored the fact that the conversation didn't include her and she didn't know them. He'd made some sarcastic comment like, 'Down tiger,' before he'd released her.

Draco answered the woman, taking command in accordance with the biographies of the Valor twins. The older brother was more dominant. "Yes. We're here for out interview and first day of class."

Confidence oozed out of his every pore, as though their pending admittance into the school was but a minor detail. Hermione just smiled in agreement. The younger sister was a rather timid girl.

The Valor twins were two teenagers who came from a long line of pure blooded wizards. They weren't from the richest family, but in Druids Mantra money meant little and blood meant everything.

Val and Vera Valor were two well-known names among everyone within a hundred mile radius of Genova. It had been common knowledge that they were receiving private tutoring in the ways of magical learning since the day they were born. Their sudden interest and appliance to Druids Mantra was solely because it was actually Draco and Hermione acting under their alias.

The actual Val and Vera, for there was an actual sibling pair, were being kept out of sight with no details disclosed to either of the two rookies. A detailed biography of both teens had been given to them, which they had promptly read and discussed before taking the portkey all the way to Italy.

The aura given off by Draco and Hermione was enough to deter any suspicions. What the twins looked like was only speculation, since their parents and Valor family kept a tight lid on all private affairs and kept their children out of sight.

While some rumors made them out to be a hideous pair of hunchbacks, reasoning their lack of public appearance, most thought they must fit in with the glory of their name. The Valor name was highly thought of.

Only such a pure family could possibly have heirs that were nothing short of godlike.

Indeed, they made quite an attraction standing in the atrium as they were.

Draco was well drilled in the mannerisms of acting superior from his own Malfoy name. The blonde stood tall at six foot. His golden blonde hair was darkened, though no less striking. It was necessary for his hair to be darker for the sake of appearing related to Hermione. The golden strands were slightly wavy and perfectly mannered.

His face was impassive and his silver grey eyes were able to send any witch careening into a chair for lack of stable legs. His broad shoulders and nicely structured body only hinted at what sights lay beneath the expensive tailored clothes.

And then there was Hermione. If Draco could catch the eye of any witch, then she could catch the heart of any wizard.

The woman behind the desk made her quick and slightly obvious study of him, before summoning the principal. Shortly after, a large beefy man, with olive skin and short black hair, strode through a door on the far wall behind the marble counter. He was the principal, Mr. Fabriano, overseer to all that went on within Druids Mantra.

As the dark haired man approached the two Valor siblings, wondering why they chose now to apply to his school, he studied them in much the same way as his secretary had. His eyes were less focused on the older brother, however, and more drawn to the timid sister.

Hermione was small and delicate. She stood, not short, but only coming up to Draco's shoulders. Her frame was slender but curved in every respect that a female would want to be. Her mane of wavy curls was now golden, slightly darker than Draco's hair, lightened for the same reason his was darkened. The once unruly hair of hers from years ago was now a splendid crown of soft curls, tumbling down her back and over her shoulders, framing her angelic face. Bright rusty brown eyes sparkled shyly from behind long dark lashes. Her lips were slightly pout, red and lush. Her cheeks were graced with a slight flush against creamy skin. In a show of her timid character, she turned further into her brother's arms and raised an arm to clutch his shirt.

Mr. Fabriano extended his hand, and Draco shook it firmly. Hermione watched avidly, looking from her brother to the principal, as if waiting for approval. Draco smiled encouragingly at her.

Vera smiled brightly up at the school's head honcho, causing a noticeable hitch in the man's breathing. She extended her hand, which he gently took and graced with a kiss. It was Mr. Fabriano's every intention at this moment to send them on their way, no interview needed, if only to ensure the younger of the twins remained nearby attending classes.

This was part of what Draco was counting on, and part of why he had to fight to remain in control. Every part of him wanted to wrench her small hand from his slimy grip, but he couldn't.

"Allow me to give you an official tour," he said in smooth sleazy words. His hand remained holding Vera's as he guided her away from her protective brother. He dared to place a guiding hand on her back and ushered her through the door he had come from, followed closely by Val. "Druids Mantra welcome's you most kindly," he stated as the door shut behind them.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

**A Sexy Memento**

Druids Mantra was a fairly small school. Very few witches and wizards were accepted.

As such, when two newbies arrived the whole school was buzzing with anticipation. It had been rumored for the past week that the Valor twins were going to be attending, starting at the beginning of the summer semester. But that was only rumor, which meant everyone believed it to be true. Finally all the wondering about the famous duo would be stopped, as they would all see first hand just what Val and Vera looked like.

Just shy of two hundred students, the school was divided by three grades. What would have worked out as Hogwarts' fifth, sixth, and seventh year would be their first through third. There was no division of houses, just age groups.

Sometimes it wasn't even by age, since their policy leaned more toward capability than how old you were. There were some younger students mixed in here and there above their year, though the reverse was never tolerated. If you couldn't hack it, you were gone. Part of Hermione actually agreed with this policy, though she knew being moved up a year or two, meant she'd miss her friends terribly.

At breakfast, Val and Vera sat at the third year's table being blatantly ogled by every other student. No one had dared to approach yet, on account of the aura surrounding the brother and sister. The atmosphere demanded privacy.

As whispers flew, and forced normality of conversations filled the dining hall, students ate. Many just sat waiting and watching.

Val was an attraction for every female in sight. Several sighed as he squeezed his arm that was wrapped around his sister's shoulders. He was far more than any of their wild imaginations had conjured him to be. Tall, lithe yet built, and gorgeously handsome. The only fault they might find was within the sister, she clung to him and he indulged her every whim. However, they also found that attractive in the sense that if they were to replace the sister, then it would be them his arm encircled protectively and them he was whispering to and laughing with and being near.

Several more sighs were heard.

While all the witches drooled over Val, similarly all the wizards sat quietly, unable to carry on a normal conversation as they lusted after Vera. Considering they were young males, it didn't take much to set their hormones off, but she was more than a small trigger.

Their eyes were drawn immediately to her. Those golden curls, bright eyes, pink lips, shapely curves. The list went on as each set of eyes found a new part of her anatomy to stare at discretely in each glance they stole. What really made their blood boil was the shyness she exhibited, how innocent she must be, how ready for a long night's lesson in _making friends_. The only trouble was the brother. Damn that Val, if he didn't hold on to her as if warding off every one of them and staking a claim that no one was to touch his sister. But there would have to be a time when he couldn't watch her, a time when they could swoop in and make their move. Perhaps whisking her away to a small corner, or deserted room to _talk_.

The doors to the dining hall opened, and in strode the two class presidents, Michael Dayton and Sarah Giovanni. Surprisingly, Mr. Fabriano soon followed. It was unusual for the principal to join them for breakfast.

The dark haired man cast a lingering glance at the two new students. It would be in his favor to separate them. The timid and shy one would be far too difficult to persuade into anything with her overbearing brother nearby. Of course the twins' relationship was to be expected. They had only ever known each other as far as peers went, or so their records had shown, so they would be close, no doubt about that now. He'd have to let her settle for a few more days though.

Vera was now looking up at him through long lashes and deep brown eyes. She had no idea how vixen like her look was, how seductive. 'Or did she?' Fabriano wondered. Just how innocent was their new celebrity student?

When she smiled at him all thoughts of her being anything but nervous and pure were diminished. He smiled back accordingly, before turning his head back to watch where he was going.

Since they had arrived late on the previous day, he would make their new arrival announcement now. Mr. Fabriano stood from his table, which seated the two presidents and several staff members, and cleared his throat. No volume enhancement was needed as a dead hush fell within seconds.

Hermione quirked a brow at this, she was slightly curious and disturbed at the strict reaction.

"I'm sure you are all well aware of two new arrivals this morning." He paused as everyone seemed to nod in concurrence. "Val Valor and Vera Valor."

Did Hermione detect a slight emphasis on her female alias' name?

"They will be starting as third years this semester." He waved a hand to them, and gestured that they should stand up. The twins stood up from their seats.

Val dropped his arm, but Vera clasped his hand still and stared at the floor intent on pretending people weren't watching her. Suddenly someone gave a cat call, which seemed to be a sign for several more. Vera promptly colored in the face and turned swiftly into her brother's chest to bury her embarrassed face from view and somehow escape by shrouding her vision in the material of his shirt. Val raised an arm around her and glowered in the direction of the whistles. The message was clear from the venom his eyes spat, 'Don't even think of doing that again and if you approach her I'll rip your throat out.'

Following Vera's reaction were a few groans from the boys and even one from Mr. Fabriano. There was just something about the flush of her cheeks and naïve nature that tightened his pants. Images of her face flush with color while she lay beneath him breathless flashed in his mind.

Mr. Fabriano cleared his throat. "I hope you all give them a warm welcome." That was all he said before resuming the breakfast.

Hermione and Draco took their seats again. Hermione had had a really hard time with that one. The moment she heard the first whistle, she nearly broke out into uncontrolled laughter and had to stifle it in Draco's shirt. She already found the way everyone acted like programmed minions amusing, so the underlying current of mirth had been there to provoke her fit.

Draco on the other hand was feeling the exact emotions that were perceived by his new peers. While Hermione giggled into his shirt, he glared sharp daggers at the cat callers, willing them to instantly combust on the spot. Staying in character wouldn't be too hard for him, being protective of Hermione was something he had already started forming a complex about, not that it meant anything other than if she were to be harmed or taken away he would never find another Auror more suited to be his partner.

Once breakfast was over, a chime rang through the room. Everyone stopped eating and stood at once to head off for their first class. Michael and Sarah approached Vera and Val, who had stood but remained rooted for lack of a place to go. They hadn't received their schedules yet, which was why the class presidents were about to talk to them.

Extending his hand, Michael firmly shook Val's own. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm the student body president Michael Dayton." Once he released Val's hand he gestured to Sarah. "This is our other class president, Sarah Giovanni."

Michael waited for Sarah to shake hands also. Then he moved on to Vera, all thoughts and intentions hidden from his eyes. "And you are Vera, it's a pleasure." There was a smooth and gentle tone to his voice, as though he were trying not to frighten her.

Vera smiled warmly at the Michael, even going so far as to reach out and shake his hand, which was something she usually wouldn't have done on her own. Val eyed this exchange keenly. Sarah noticed Val's reaction with a small smirk that she couldn't help.

The game was on now. Val and Vera were the next targets of the two presidents' pass time amusement.

Between Michael and Sarah, they had all the conniving, sly, and most devious of ways. For kicks they played with the other students' lives and emotions. It only served to prove their superiority when they were successful in swaying and controlling all situations. This was why they were the presidents. Together, they were an unstoppable force, and even Mr. Fabriano was reluctant to get in their way.

The night before, it had been decided what game they would play this time. According to the twins' profiles, Val was a self righteous, protective older brother. Vera was an innocent little angel who was lost without her counter part. What made the game all the more fun was that the Valor kids had looks to kill.

Simply put, Sarah would seduce Val and Michael would seduce Vera. Not only would they both get a good lay, but they would also prove their superiority once again, while knocking Val off his high horse and corrupting Vera.

They only expected the game to last a week at most, and then they would be on to some other amusement. It was terribly easy to get bored these days. Now that more people knew to stay away from them, no one seemed up for playing.

Divide and conquer was the initial tactic. So, Val went with Sarah to a first period of Potions and Vera went with Michael to Dueling.

* * *

Being led so forcibly was not something Draco enjoyed. He narrowed his eyes discretely at Sarah as she dragged him along, one hand on his forearm and the other wrapped around his upper arm, clutching it inappropriately close to her chest.

If this was the game being played he was going to have an easier time getting information, but harder time trying to concentrate. What little Sarah didn't know was that Draco was the prince of Slytherin. Seduction and weaving intricate webs was an art for him, and he was indeed a magnificent artist. 'Whether Granger sees it or not,' he thought ruefully for moment.

It would seem this school played host to more than the dark arts involving magic, and he had the distinct feeling that it had nothing to do with the disappearances.

As Draco and Sarah walked along to corridors, the sly witch spouting off smooth remarks, Draco tuned her out and reviewed some facts.

The first student to vanish was Regina Former. Regina was a first year and from a wealthy family. The school claimed she had dropped out, emphasizing that she was from a money based background and like so many who only had money, she couldn't keep up. No one seemed to question this explanation, except for the girl's family, who hadn't seen her since the previous semester when she went to live at the school.

Draco didn't believe the story either. Aside from being told by Moody that something deeper was going on, his tip off was from the grade record he pulled for little Regina, learning that her scores were impeccable. So, if Regina couldn't hack it, he didn't think even Granger could.

Marco Fiyori was the next student to run away from the pressure. Marco was also a first year, with great promise according to the teacher evaluations. There were faux reports about how he had gone to counseling sessions to talk about the stress and pressure he'd been feeling, but Draco found no scheduled times in the date book. He'd even gone back an extra semester, and not a single time did Marco feel the need to express himself to a trained psychologist user.

It was Draco's conclusion that the third year wizard who followed shortly after Marco was legitimately gone. Not only was the student a third year, but he also had enough standing to graduate early. It had been the end of a semester, so the boy had most likely just decided to graduate. Draco's theory was confirmed when there had been reports of a home coming party from the mother of the student in question.

Most recently, Adriana Fudge was no longer sending letters home to dear old Dad or Uncle Cornelius. It was slightly more difficult for the board of education to reason this one off, since Adriana had connections which put her in a more public eye. It was also a folly on the culprits' part to not know how obsessive compulsive the father-daughter duo were about writing each other.

There was suspicion on the first night Hugo Fudge didn't receive his daughter's owl. The ministry had managed to curtail the man from charging down there and making demands in person, but only just.

Thoughts of the missing students swarmed Draco's mind and became the focus. His attention was so consumed that he didn't even notice the gentle petting Sarah was doing to his arm. Had he realized from the start he would have instinctively torn his arm away in disgust and anger.

As it was, he didn't notice until they reached the potions classroom and she let him go. She sat beside him, not even asking. The audacity she possessed astounded him. No one did anything around him without his permission. He was a Malfoy, better than this self-proclaimed seductress, the conniving wench that she was.

Part of him began to hope she was involved in the case, so that he could exact revenge for the personal vendetta starting to form.

Sadly, no matter how much he wanted to protest her touch and gazes, all he could do was feel disgusted and outraged while keeping an impassive face. While assuming the identity of Val, he could only show extreme emotion when around Vera, and those emotions would usually be anger and happiness. Anger towards all guys who looked at her and happy to be around her.

As far as Draco or Hermione knew, Val and Vera weren't even that close. But extreme times called for extreme measures, so their relationship would be a bit extreme to follow. Besides, as a matter of convenience, this gave them an excuse to always be together when possible, which meant they could discuss any and all headway in their investigation.

While potions passed in a foul mood for Draco, Hermione could hardly contain herself throughout her dueling class.

Being the asexual bookworm know-it-all she had been all her life, Hermione was unused to having someone make passes at her, or at least try to seduce her. Even someone like her knew what was going on, although it wasn't until after Draco had told her.

Draco had informed her, during their goodbye hug right before they went their separate ways, that Michael was going to try and seduce her. While it seemed preposterous to her, she believed him, not sure what to expect.

There were so many signs and gestures that she was unsure how to interpret. Michael had placed a hand on the small of her back, much as Draco had done when they first walked in.

Was that Michael coming on to her? If so, had Draco done the same? This seemed most unlikely, but Draco said it.

There was a casual brush of hands when they were sitting together, but he had been reaching for a pen. There had also been a whisper in her ear, more casual touching, tucking her hair behind her ear for her. None of it seemed out of the ordinary, Harry and Ron had done those things hundreds of times and she knew they weren't trying to get her to sleep with them.

About half way through the class, when Hermione was proudly writing notes for proper dueling etiquette, which she already knew by heart, she felt Michael's hand on her thigh. Not even she was naïve enough to have wondered, 'What a strange place for his hand to be.' She knew this was the start of his more forward gestures.

Perhaps she should have been outraged at such behavior, but she wasn't. It might have been because she had been waiting for it and wondering so much, but when it happened she nearly burst out laughing.

She had to bite her lip so hard she thought she might be bleeding. A small squeak escaped, she couldn't help it. She covered her mouth quickly and tried to stifle it.

'Maybe he'll think I'm really ticklish or something,' she hoped.

Beneath her mirth, the part of Hermione that wanted to be more like Draco, which was a very small and subconscious bit, wondered what the class president would do if she started to respond wantonly to his advance.

She squished that thought with the fact that if she did, it would be out of character and jeopardize the mission.

How Hermione felt and how Vera was perceived were two completely different things. Luckily, Michael blamed her reaction as a surprised innocence and shock. While he was entirely turned on, she was merely amused.

* * *

After the first day, neither Draco nor Hermione had heard any rumors milling about surrounding the missing students. They had found little opportunity to bring the subject up themselves, without causing suspicion anyway. So, the two retired after a day of repetitive classes, slightly sulking from their lack of progress.

* * *

A knock sounding at Draco's door brought him from his reverie as he lay on the perfectly made bed of his singles dorm room. The rooms were small, but sufficient, and they were private for each third year, where as first and second years had one roommate. He considered getting up, but found he was quite comfortable where he was.

Instead, he called out, "Door's open."

The door opened hardly more than a crack, allowing Hermione to scurry inside and out of the hallway, where anyone could spot her. She beamed at Draco, trying to show her appreciation that the day was finally over.

Draco, who had been lounging in his pajamas, which were a set of black flannel pants and a grey t-shirt, sat up fast as lightening when he saw Hermione.

He hadn't really been expecting her, but her presence wasn't what shocked him at the moment. Swallowing a lump in his throat, which was oddly dry all of a sudden, he stared as she pattered her way over to the bed in bare feet.

Her feet were not the only bare part of her. As far as he could tell, all she was wearing was an oversized forest green t-shirt, his shirt at that. For a second he spotted a hint of red peaking out from underneath, indicating that she was at least wearing shorts. But, considering the shirt came down to at least a six inches above her knee, they must have been awfully short shorts.

Still slightly shocked from her appearance, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, not even thinking, "What the bloody hell do you think you're wearing, _Vera_?"

Hermione stopped a couple feet short of his bed, furrowing her brows and looking down at herself. "Oh," she exclaimed, suddenly realizing why he seemed a bit irked. "I'm really sorry, I was going to return it, but then the house elves gave it back to me, and it's really comfortable…" she trailed off and winced, awaiting his reaction.

Flustered, Draco rung his hands through his hair and growled, "That's not the problem!"

Didn't she have any idea what she looked like? Didn't she know the kind of thoughts she could illicit from a man? He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Of course not,' he concluded.

Again, he wasn't sure whether or not her being the know-it-all bookworm had helped or hindered. She wasn't one to notice the increasing attention she drew over the past few years. On the one hand, if she knew how beautiful she really was, then she might be as bad as Pansy, who wasn't in the least bit attractive but seemed to think so anyway. Then again, because she didn't know, he was forced to constantly use his unmatchable self-control and restrain all stray thoughts, which she unknowingly conjured within him.

She was still just standing there with her long, tanned, and sexy legs on display.

Shaking his head, Draco tried that one over.

She was just looking at him, unsure what she'd done wrong but sorry nonetheless. He could see it in her eyes, and he felt guilty for being a bit harsh. Draco was about to apologize, but hesitated.

Hermione bit her lip, unsure of what to do since Draco still hadn't said anything more.

Draco became concerned when she gave a little whimper and stopped biting her lip.

Standing swiftly, he stood before her and leaned down a little. He tilted her head up by placing his hands on either side of her jaw. It was then he saw, her lip was cut, now bleeding a little.

"What happened?" again he growled fiercely, with an uncalled for urgency. He didn't mean for his tone to be so severe, especially when he felt her shy away, but he held her in place and waited for an answer. The worst possible scenarios were running through his mind. Had that bastard Michael tried to kiss her and do it? He'd march right to the president's dorm room and beat him to a bloody pulp.

Confused at the dancing emotions in Draco's eyes, Hermione answered tentatively, "I bit my lip too hard in class." Seeing disbelief she explained further, "I was trying to keep from laughing, and just went a little too far."

He ran his thumb across the slightly swollen cut. She winced almost imperceptibly. "I believe you," he said finally, in the gentle voice he'd been meaning to use since she first arrived. His thumb lingered a little too long for his liking, as he felt some sort of barrier within him begin to buckle.

Taking a safer route, he stepped away.

All too soon, the heat from Draco's body was gone as he stepped back and sat on the edge of his bed with a sigh. Taking this as a sign that he was no longer angry, she considered herself welcome to be there.

Finally feeling welcome, she dove onto the untouched bed top, just behind him, and lay on her stomach, face buried in the pillows.

A muffled sound came from within the pillow. "What was that Granger?" he asked with a scoff.

Hermione raised her head. "I said, 'I'm tired.'"

Rubbing his face, Draco sighed. She was out of sight at the moment, so he wasn't forced to think about the way she looked or what it did to him.

Suddenly he felt weary, it had been a long day, full of heightened emotions he wasn't used to feeling. It had taken energy to conceal each and every one of them. "You and me both kitten."

He almost didn't even notice he had called her by his and Moody's pet name for her other persona. When he did, he froze. The words had just rolled off his tongue. Damn it if he didn't find himself unable to keep any guard up around this insufferable know-it-all.

He coughed. "We should go over today in greater detail."

He waited for a response. When none came he looked behind his back. His kitten never lied. She was indeed tired. Hermione was fast asleep in his bed.

The situation was suddenly all too familiar and comfortable for him to do anything but what felt natural. Draco lay down besides her, pulling her close, but only for body heat since they were on top of the covers. Within moments, the world faded away and he too was asleep.

Neither of the two were concerned that Hermione's entrance might set off an alarm. While no charms were set off, that didn't mean a certain principal wasn't going to pay a very special visit to a desired new student that morning only to find her room empty.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

**Look But Don't Touch, Okay, No Looking Either**

An empty bed was not something of a surprise among some of the older students at Druids Mantra. Most of the time Mr. Fabriano could simply assume the student was in one of the president's rooms.

Sarah and Michael were quite the puppet masters. More than once he found himself wondering if he too was nothing but a figurehead. But he had a few secrets up his sleeves, which neither of the youths knew about. His influence and control was more than they imagined. And, letting them have a false sense of security, thinking they ran the school, gave him even more control.

Fabriano highly doubted Miss Valor's absence had anything to do with either president. She was far too innocent to be lured into someone's bed in just a day. He had a sneaking suspicion of where she might be, or rather whom she might be with.

It had not been mentioned in their record that they were seemingly inseparable, and finding such circumstances to be true was most annoying. Of course had the file said that Vera couldn't be away from her protective brother's side for more than two seconds, he probably wouldn't have cared in the least, but now that he had seen her he cared a lot.

The next place he headed for was the third year boy's dormitory. Being fairly confident in his conclusions, he didn't plan on having to look anywhere else for the young woman.

Various ideas swarmed his mind. There seemed to be an unlimited array of possibilities with this one. He could use his findings to drive a much needed wedge between her and her brother. But doing so might lessen his chances, or at least delay the inevitable, of possessing the pretty little angel.

The decision of what to do would have to be made when he found her.

He rolled his eyes as he entered the boy's dormitory. He should have known she'd be there and not wasted a trip to the girls dorm. Now that he thought back, what had his excuse for visiting her so early in the morning on a weekend been? Ah, yes. He was going to give her a formal tour of the city. Take her around Genova personally, an honor her sweet little heart couldn't refuse.

The fact that her brother wouldn't be joining them was something she wouldn't be privy to until the last moment. Now though, he wondered how he could manage to extend his invitation without the brother knowing, since he would be in the same room as Vera.

He sighed, thinking, 'Anything truly good is always worth working for.' Indeed he would have to work. It seemed his plans would keep coming across speed bumps.

Raising his hand, Fabriano knocked on the door. It wasn't until after he resorted to soft thudding that he felt slightly irked at his actions. This was his school and yet here he was essentially asking for admittance. While he didn't make habit of barging in on other's privacy, he also didn't think it right for him to stand there in the early hour waiting for the occupants to groggily allow him inside. However, he remained standing there, as if compelled to wait.

Draco was awake the second he felt the wards on the door breeched. Seconds later he heard the resounding thud of knuckles on wood. While his body screamed for him to ignore the caller, his mind knew that the list of people it could be was small and none of those people should be kept waiting for long. He deduced that it was most likely one of three persons. The principal, Sarah, or Michael. Michael was his first guess.

Gently, Draco extracted himself from around Hermione. Again he felt a pang of loathing to leave for even a second, and wanted nothing more than to huddle closer and go back to sleep. But, as it was, he couldn't just call out for this intruder to come in. The knocker already dared to intrude upon a blissful sleep, he wouldn't allow them to waltz in as if they belonged.

His barely perceptible movements caused Hermione to stir. She began to wake up slowly, not jumping to as if detecting danger. This observation only confirmed his own instincts. Had any part of her subconscious felt danger, she would have sprung up and been ready at the drop of a dime, much as he would have too.

Lately, he didn't even trust his own instincts completely, not until they were confirmed on both their ends. He felt no danger, but would not let his mind declare it until Hermione seemed to agree, even if she didn't know she was agreeing to something.

Stretching slightly, Draco's mind began to calculate the situation. It wouldn't be long before he'd have to answer the door, though a delayed answer to the knock would be more than justified.

It was probably Michael, perhaps even another boy from the dormitory, though he couldn't figure and reason for them being there. Regardless of who it was, he was fairly certain that they were outside his door looking for Vera, which meant there would be no use in hiding her somewhere.

Draco reached for the doorknob, not bothering to say whether he was on his way. Opening the door, he was faced with Mr. Fabriano.

Val raised his eyebrows at the principal standing outside his bedroom door. "Sir?" he questioned, completely oblivious as to why he was being paid this visit.

Fabriano smirked. The boy had no clue. For anyone with a little bit of common sense and the ability to observe, it wasn't surprising that Vera would be staying with her brother. "Mr. Valor, I do believe you have a late night guest," he stated lightly.

In an attempt to think through the fog of sleep, which he had just come from, Val furrowed his brows to think for a moment. "Vera, sir?"

Nodding, Fabriano took a cursory glance past the boy, trying to discern where she lay in the room beyond.

All the while Draco answered the door, Hermione had her brain working overtime. It was like playing chess. You had to read the movements of the opponent and yourself ahead a little ways, sketch things out, look for traps to set or avoid.

Now, she thought she might have seen a move only a couple movements away, giving her a chance to inquire about the missing students without suspicion. When it came right down to it, the opportunity to ask everyone would come about, one way or another.

So, Hermione set her little scheme into action, hoping things panned out right, and that Draco followed her lead.

Vera lay on Val's bed, sleeping soundly, curled up slightly on her side. Hair fanned out on the pillow beneath, her chest rose and fell with each breath. The shirt she was wearing rode up, exposing her flat belly and back. The shorts did very little to cover her, just managing to conceal her petit round arse.

This was what Fabriano saw when he finally saw into the darkness of Val's room. 'Oh Merlin,' he thought. How he would like to just go over there and take her, ravish and possess her. It was all he could do to not throw Val out into the hallway and lock the door behind, leaving him to do what he wanted with Vera.

Draco saw the emotions of lust cloud Mr. Fabriano's eyes. This was a look he was becoming more and more used to seeing on men who looked at Hermione. This was the look he cracked his knuckles over, just waiting for any excuse to beat the bloody hell out of each and every guy who gave his partner this look.

While Draco knew why the perverted principal was practically drooling at the moment, he still wasn't quite prepared for what he saw when he turned around. Moments ago Hermione had been about to stand up fully awake, now she lay in a most indecent fashion sound asleep.

Throat dry, Draco gulped, suddenly remembering that before Fabriano's intrusion he had been closely wrapped up against _that._ His heart beat faster.

"Vera," he managed to croak out, finding his voice didn't work so well when he saw his _partner_ in such a state.

Vera stirred slightly, moaning gently.

Coughing Draco cleared his throat to call her name a little louder, she couldn't actually be asleep he knew, but what she was playing at was anybody's guess. "Vera," he called a little louder this time.

Again she moaned in protest, though somehow it sounded so different. Both men would have agreed that it was the sort of moan given off in bed for wholly different reasons than just waking up.

She thrashed a bit, turned onto her back and stretching her arms above her head. The only trouble was, as her arms made their way up, they slid along her sides, snagging her shirt and hitching it up even higher, now exposing her ribs and barely covering the amble curves they could see outlined.

Next she groaned, much like one would if they were finally coming to, but wanted to complain and ask for just five more minutes. Her back arched in one final stretch, leaving both Draco and Fabriano holding their breath as they wondered if her shirt would slip higher still to reveal her breasts.

The shirt held however. Draco sighed in relief. That was the last thing he wanted at this point.

Fabriano stood stock-still. Since he had heard that first sound come from the girl's throat, he found himself rooted to the ground watching in anticipation. Once she had finished thrashing, leaving little to not be seen, his pants felt suddenly too tight.

For a wizard as experienced as he was, it was most unbecoming and unnerving to find himself unable to control his body because of some young witch. He chose to blame it on the fact that it had been a long time since he last had an affair with such fresh meat, and hadn't seen someone of her stature in quite a while.

There was nothing Draco could do, but he was absolutely livid at the moment. He wanted to blind Fabriano, never allowing him to look at Hermione like that ever again. He wanted to yell and scream at Hermione for daring to show any of herself to any other man.

Livid or not, there was nothing he could do. He could just imagine what Moody would say, 'Damn fool! Ruin the mission because someone else ogled your kitten!' He cringed slightly, that would be a career disaster. Instead he settled for not calling out to her again, afraid that if he did, she'd wind up wearing absolutely nothing.

Fabriano was slightly hesitant to approach, but made up his mind and moved forward slowly. Whatever was appropriate flew out the window the moment he first pictured Vera writhing in pleasure beneath him.

"Vera, dear," Fabriano called gently, shaking her shoulder. A shock went up his arm, he wasn't sure if he liked it or not, it was decidedly like a bolt of electricity. His fingertips felt slightly numb, but all that was forgotten as Vera looked up at him from under her thick lashes.

Her eyes gleamed in the dim room. The only light came from the hall and dawning sunlight through the windows. It seemed before she could recognize who he was or where she was, she smiled brightly in an automatic morning greeting.

Gods, how her smile drove him to the brink. A few more minutes and he would have no choice but excuse himself and find relief in the nearest bathroom.

"Mmhmm… Mr. Fabriano?" she questioned, starting to grasp her surroundings.

"Yes. Could you wake up Vera?" he asked, reluctant to lose the sight he had, but knowing he couldn't take it much longer.

Bolting upright, Vera fixed herself, flushing slightly at the realization that she was a bit indecent during her nighttime tossing and turning. There was also the added factor that the school's principal had been the one to see her. "I'm terribly sorry sir, I didn't expect you to be here," she began in a mortified tone.

"Ah, well, no harm done."

Her head was bowed, hair falling to mask her beautiful face. He reached a hand down and cupped her chin. This time he felt the same shock, and agreed that it was not pleasant, it must have been static or something.

Regardless, he tilted her chin up and gazed into slightly watery eyes. "Come now, everything is just fine. You're not in trouble." She sniffed a little, and seemed to ask the question in her eyes before speaking it.

"Really?" she asked, bottom lip pouting slightly in a tantalizing manner.

Fabriano's eyelids drooped slightly as he fought the urge to take her right there. "Yes, yes. I was just worried, since you weren't in your own room?" he said in a questioning tone. Had it been any other student, such rule breaking was enough to cause expulsion depending on the terms they were found in. But, he would do nothing to Vera, for now.

Her eyes widened a little. "Oh, I'm so sorry, really. I know I shouldn't have left, but I find that I just can't sleep alone. I need someone to sleep with… and…" The next part was most obviously going to be something along the lines of, 'And I knew Val was here, so I went to him.' She left it hanging there.

Hermione was unaware of the effect she had on men, or males in general, but Draco had told her she could do something like this, so she was trying. She left her innocent sentence open for any possible twists of thought.

The older principal gulped audibly, almost in sync with Mr. Valor behind him. 'What do you say to something like that?' he wondered, while his mind raced with all the lines he'd use on any other witch. Not Vera though, her words were as true as her beauty. She wasn't some slut like the set of presidents they had, she was untouched and pure, waiting for him. Clearing his throat he decided to explain himself to her. "I understand, but you must know that there is a greater cause for concern as of late."

Vera's brows shot up in a loss.

He chuckled, how like her to not have a clue. "Several students have gone missing dear. I don't know what I'd do if you were one of them." He let his thumb snake out and stroke her jaw, but retracted his hand when that static shock went through him again.

Vera's hand shot up to cover her mouth in feigned surprise. "Oh my! Those poor dears, what happened to them?" Her words were as sincere as any mother's for her lost child.

Draco's mouth fell open, as he stared at Hermione. He was lucky he was behind Mr. Fabriano, so that his short display of unmasked emotions went unnoticed. 'How the bloody hell did she manage that one?' he wondered. One second she puts on an innocent striptease and the next she's moved the topic exactly where they had been trying to get it all day.

Forgetting all about his jealousy, he sulked instead. 'Yeah, well, anyone who had those breasts and arse and legs and… everything else, could have done it!' he argued, trying to sooth a slightly dented ego. 'She could have at least told me her plan, before making me act the fool and drool as much as pervert man over here.'

"Well, it's nothing to worry about really, just some hazing gotten a little out of hand is all. They'll turn up in no time," he answered nonchalantly, not really wanting to strike up an entire conversation about it.

"What is hazing? Will I have to do something like that?" she asked slightly fearful.

"No, no, no. Don't worry my dear. There was a particular club which had a hazing period, that is a time of trials before they let knew members in, and things just got a little out of hand. But, you have nothing to worry about, you don't have to do anything like that," he assured her.

"What did they do?" she questioned, slightly interested.

He waved his hand as if dismissing it before answering her. "It was something silly really. They just apparated to various checkpoints and pieced clues together… like a series of riddles to test their worth for the club. They're simply lost at the moment, no doubt still trying to piece those clues together.

"That sounds kind of fun," she admitted more to herself.

"Indeed, I'm sure it was meant as such. But, I'm afraid things have taken a slight turn for the worse.

"What club was it for?" she knew her window of opportunity was closing and needed this one last question answered.

Fabriano's brows furrowed, and Hermione was afraid he was suspicious, but he apparently had just been trying to remember. "Ancient Runes I believe. Most our classes also have clubs for the more zealous of our lot who want to learn more."

Vera just smiled up at him, not pressing the matter any further, for fear of treading too far. "Were you trying to find me before sir?"

"Uh, yes." He had lost his train of thought after going off on that tangent. When he looked into her eyes, he felt open to talk about or do all sorts of things he ought not to. Once he remembered his initial reason for searching her out, he brightened. "I thought perhaps you'd like a tour of our lovely city," he proposed.

Vera's eyes lit with joy as Hermione's heart sank to the bottom of her stomach. Hadn't she done enough? Already she wanted to take a shower and scrub her skin raw from having him rake his eyes over her.

She would never have done that if Draco hadn't told her she was capable to something like it, though once she got the information from him so easily she wanted to kick herself for the little stunt. Obviously he was willing to dish out any information, she didn't need to do what she did in order to get him to talk. There was no excuse for her to behave like that. It was now sickening and she definitely wanted a shower. But, instead she was going to get a whole day filled with nothing but the principal.

She felt sick yes, but with herself. Hermione was still not one to notice lust or sexual emotions in anyone. She didn't conclude that Fabriano had made casual conversation of confidential information on account of the fact that he was thinking with more than one head at the time. Instead she concluded that she had acted like a slut for no reason. Now, she'd have to go the rest of the day feeling this way.

While the sick and dirty feeling came from the fact that Fabriano was indeed thinking about her in a manner that would make her cringe in disgust, her mind surmised that she was sick over her own actions.

Draco knew better, he saw the revolt in her. He knew what it was from. And he wasn't about to let her feel that way all day long. "That's a wonderful idea sir, we were just discussing a trip through the city last night, weren't we Vera?"

Vera nodded in delight.

Fabriano glared at the floor. This was what he had been afraid would happen. Making the offer in front of the brother meant that they would both come along. Perhaps he could employ Miss Giovanni to help distract the over protective brother.

* * *

Mr. Fabriano left the two with promises to meet after breakfast that morning and explore the finer points of the city.

The moment the door was closed, Draco cast a quick ward with a swish of his hand, sealing their voices in and intruders out. "What the bloody hell was that!" he shouted.

Hermione shivered, she felt terrible right now, her skin was crawling. And it would seem Draco agreed with her. "I think I'm going to be sick," she stated.

Biting back his anger, Draco softened. For her sake he would speak truthfully, personal feelings aside. "Moody would be proud," he stated, earning a surprised look from Hermione as she stared into his eyes. "That was a brilliant tactic really. I'm glad you listened to what I said before. It wouldn't have worked without you doing that."

He was always hard pressed to dish out any complement, but something told him she needed to hear it. Now, as he watched her eyes water slightly, he wondered if he was wrong. In a swift leap, Hermione jumped into his arms, clinging to him, just like the kitten had. "Hey," he said gently, as she sobbed into his shirt.

After a few incoherent mumbles he stroked her hair and managed to have her calmed down before asking what was wrong. "Don't let me do that again. I feel disgusting, I'm simply horrible."

Such emotions were not what the little Gryffindor was used to feeling, and most certainly not something most Slytherin's were capable of feeling. She felt violated. While she had put herself out there, asking for it, he'd invariably caused it to occur.

He was the one who had told her she was attractive and had an appeal to turn eyes. He had told her to be more aware so she didn't fall susceptible. He had told her she could use this as an advantage in certain situations. Okay, so he had more chastised and reprimanded her in angry words rather than _tell_ her, but the same idea was expressed.

Now, she was feeling the repercussions. The only trouble was, she was getting things a little twisted, so he'd have to set things straight.

"Granger, it's because of the way he was looking at you. You feel sick, cause you feel violated, not because you're disgusted with your own actions." He made sure to stare right into her eyes as he said this, willing her sweet demeanor to accept his words as truth.

On a final note, he added, "Besides, the students' lives may depend on us. The faster we find out what's going on the better. You only did what you had to in order to get some information. There is no shame in it."

Somewhere between Hermione clinging to him and his assuring words, he vowed to protect her from such negative feelings. He wouldn't let her feel this again, to be around men like Fabriano and feel unwanted lust.

If she felt wronged, so did he. Mr. Fabriano would have another thing coming if he thought he could get away with touching her. The man had served his purpose. They didn't need him anymore.

>>


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

**How Easily We Forgive**

Thankfully Hermione was able to recover, or at least compose herself before Draco tried to use his most effective tactic on her, which was yelling and making snide remarks. She was off to shower and make ready for their breakfast.

Draco was relieved the lighting had been so dim in his room. He was now charming his hair to a darker shade of blonde, since the spell seem to have slowly weakened over night. He was sure Hermione would find the glitch in her appearance and rectify it also.

As he walked down the corridor of the third floor, making his way to the stairwell, he felt rather awkward in his clothing. How odd it seemed that for a school so set in its old fashion ways, the clothing was rather muggle like.

The clothes he wore, faded boot cut jeans and a form fitting navy blue t-shirt, just felt wrong among wizards. And yet, he fit right in. Perhaps this was another lesson for him, that wizarding ways had nothing to do with clothing and fashion. Yes, something like that would be important to remember.

The next time he saw someone dressed in what he deemed muggle clothes he'd think twice about assuming them to be an actual muggle, a mistake like that could be dangerous. He'd mention this to Hermione too, ask her what she thought about it.

Walking with his eyes to the floor, not focusing on anything in particular, he became lost in his own musings. Draco round the final corner and came before the lunch hall doors. There was a movement he caught out of the corner of his eye, which his mind seemed to process automatically, so that he reacted before he even knew what was going on.

Quick as lightening he had caught and prevented from crashing to the floor, Sarah Giovanni, senior class president. How she managed to trip so violently on accident he couldn't guess, other than to say she hadn't.

He had to bite his the inside of his cheek to keep a loathing sneer from crossing his face as she uttered a surprised gasp and braced herself by putting her hands flush against his chest. 'Entirely unnecessary and indiscrete,' he thought, now fighting to keep his eyes from rolling.

His acting skills were truly put the test when dealing with someone he wanted nothing more than to tell off. She had no idea who he really was. How dare she touch a Malfoy in such a manner and not feel immediate fear for her brash actions. Accident or not, had he not been under cover he would have cast her aside, whether she had balance or not, and stared coldly down at her until sufficient apologies had been made.

As it was, he simply sighed. Nothing could be done. Hermione wasn't the only one who was feeling a touch bit used at the moment. But, he was more accepting of such things, not really taking any of it to heart, being Slytherin and more worn for the weather. Still, he felt disgusted and outraged at the subtle movements Sarah's hands were making against his chest. 'Does she think she's being seductive? I wonder if she knows how unattractive she truly is? So forward, there's no telling how many people she's been with.'

It was definitely a turn off for Draco to be with someone who had slept with more people than the number of times Potter had escaped death. Okay, so he did enjoy a woman with skills, but that didn't mean she needed to sleep with half the wizarding world to develop them.

Contrary to popular belief, he hadn't had all that many different witches. It had always been casual sex. He was indeed well schooled in the field, but he also found remaining with the same witch of his current fancy suited him best. If he managed to find a pretty girl or woman who understood that being with him meant no strings attached, then it was best to stick with her since most witches out there felt inclined to become too clingy after the first time.

The idea of being with Sarah was down right nauseating to him, but his brows furrowed slightly as he wondered why. He didn't like to be with someone who got around, but a few months ago he would have resigned to the advances and considered the chance to lay someone with experience a job perk. Now, it was different.

When had his tastes changed? What was it now he looked for in a partner? Surely he had never found a virgin to be appealing, and yet he was almost certain that if this girl making advances before him had been untouched he would have been entirely turned on.

Since when did he even consider a virgin a good lay?

'Since Hermione, dumb-ass,' his mind answered for him.

He shook his head of any further ramblings, and the unsettling notion that he might not find any other witch attractive simply because they weren't Hermione.

Sarah lead him pointedly in to the dining hall, practically dragging him along at a faster pace, regardless of the fact that it was still quite early and the food wasn't going anywhere. Draco narrowed his eyes at the back of her head. 'Insolent wench.'

* * *

"If looks could kill," Hermione muttered underneath her breath with a soft whistle.

Hermione had arrived shortly before Draco, coincidentally directed to a seat next to Michael Dayton, or as she had come to name him, 'Sleaze ball junior.' The principal was the senior by far.

Now, as Michael droned on about one of his many credentials that had made him a shoe in for class president, Hermione studied Sarah and her dear brother. They were approaching the very table she was at, since it was where the two presidents always sat, in front of everyone, the center of attention.

It was times like these that Hermione missed the quiet life she had been leading only a few short months ago. A nice silent corner of the library, a large book just waiting to be read. That was still very much a part of what and who she was. It always would be.

For now, this little business trip they were on would simply have to be another big project she needed to work on. Well, work or not, there was another part of Hermione that was starting to actually enjoy it. It was all rather exciting. Her deserted corner would be there for her as soon as she and Draco found those students.

Ignoring blatant glances was something she'd learned to do long ago. It was mandatory to develop at least one impenetrable layer when you were best friends with the Harry Potter.

Now, she ignored nearly every student's wandering eyes and whispering gossip. They didn't know her, and if she won the bet then after tonight she'd never see them again.

As Val took his seat beside Vera, he noticed how Sarah tried to make a smooth move out of positioning him in another chair, one not next to his sister, but failed miserably.

Whether or not Vera was actual competition to her didn't seem the cause of this. Draco got the distinct impression that Sarah was positively jealous of Hermione, or rather Vera. In fact, he was detecting the same vibe in many of the females, not all, but many.

'Jealous of her natural beauty,' he surmised. 'How catty. What did they expect? Granger is my partner after all.' As if he would be caught partnered with some idiot ogre.

Of course it wasn't the female students' glances that worried him. Jealousy was a bit simpler. While jealousy could lead to many more destructive paths, he had confidence in Hermione being able to handle that. What bothered him were the looks that the other side of the student population was casting.

Hadn't they gotten enough of their damnable ogling out of the way yesterday to serve a wank and be on with their lives? They were all lucky he didn't throttle and snap their necks in twine.

Now he began to sulk as he realized their stares had become even more lustful if anything.

As a suspicion grew, his gaze narrowed. There seemed to be a commotion going on it the far corner. He couldn't see from here, nor hear a bloody thing over the obnoxious roar of brainless chatter and forks and knives on plates.

His hand slid down, beneath the table, to tug on Hermione's shirtsleeve. With a slight jerk of his head over in the direction of the far corner, which was tables away and a bit shrouded in shadow.

Though the small movement was unnoticeable to even little miss wanton hanging off his arm, Hermione caught it. Her eyes moved a fraction to where he had indicated, then she winced ever so lightly before giving him a subtle dismissive shake.

Quirking his brow, he let his eyes ask the questions his mouth couldn't. 'What's going on that I don't know about?'

Again a subtle shake of her head was the response, though with each and every exchanged gesture they ran the risk of someone else picking up on it, so she tried to give a finality to with a severe glare.

Draco was not to be deterred however. He was senior authority on this mission, which meant nothing was to pass without his knowing. In all honesty it wasn't that he didn't trust her to conclude the matter irrelevant, it was that old spark of rivalry. He'd check it out if only to prove that he didn't have to listen to her.

Seeing this in his eyes, Hermione sighed, prepared for the worst. She had kind of been afraid of something like this happening. Perhaps not exactly like what had happened, but after a brief encounter last night, she knew trouble might follow.

It had been right before she'd made it to Draco's room last night. She had still been on the first floor, when one of the night watches had come to meet her. Of course she'd been expecting it, she would have been disappointed if her roaming hadn't been detected.

It wasn't like she'd made a secret of leaving her own room. She couldn't move about like an Auror could. If she could move like a bona fide Auror, there would be a hell of a lot more to answer for other than being out of bed if she were caught. It wasn't that she didn't have confidence in her own abilities to move undetected, but Druids Mantra was known for tight security, and that was a risk she hadn't been willing to take.

Well, suffice to say, the watchman had been a second year, who'd been hanging out with a bunch of his friends while on duty. Seeing Vera out and about dressed as she was, looking entirely insecure and lost without her bigger counter part, had stirred the macho masculine pubescent hero wannabes into a frenzy.

It hadn't taken her more than ten minutes of tearful eyes and a distressed damsel aura to convince them to let her pass uninhibited and unannounced. But in the last few minutes, while she'd pretended to sip the tea they had conjured for her, she noticed a couple flashes go off.

The bloody gits had taken her photo, which of course ruined her plans to Obliviate their minds. In the end it had all worked out for the most part.

_For the most part_, didn't include the part of anyone seeing those photos, especially Draco. She had forgotten to mention the encounter to him last night. He was still under the impression that she couldn't take care of herself, and his knowledge of her encounter last night would only fan the flames.

The commotion at that back table, where the four second years she had met last night just so happened to be, now had several other guys getting up from their seat and walking to the table to peer over shoulders. The wince she had been unable to contain before was at her realization of what they must be looking at.

She was less concerned with a whole bunch of teenage prats sharing a stupid picture than of Draco going over there and having something to do about it. His rage could only be controlled so much, and while she didn't understand where it came from all the time, she knew he got angry over what he called 'bloody lowlife horn-dog gits ogling' her.

What was more, if he caused trouble it would be entirely justifiable within his alias' persona, which meant he'd have no qualms about compromising the mission. In other words, there would be nothing keeping him back from unleashing his Malfoy temper.

If only there was a distraction. She really didn't want him to see the photo. It didn't matter that she hadn't seen it herself, she didn't care to view it either.

Again it came back to a feeling of concealed identity. These people didn't know who she was, and after this mission she'd never see any of them again. She'd feel better about walking into the dining hall stark naked than if Draco saw the pictures, since she would have live with him.

Now she was starting to worry, as more and more people started to get up and less were leaving that single table. It was becoming something of a spectacle now. It had Sarah and Michael convening over whether to break it up now or not.

Gulping, Hermione started to really worry.

Throwing caution to the wind, she asked most randomly, "So, I hear Ancient Runes has a club, how do I join?"

Draco nearly spit his orange juice out, barely managing to gulp it down and reclaim a calm demeanor. He clenched his jaw as he sent a warning glare Hermione's way, asking, 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

When she met his eyes, she wished she could assure him she actually knew the answer to his question, but as it was, her eyes held nothing but worry and desperation. Of course this made Draco worry even more.

The two presidents didn't seem to have registered her question as being odd, since they were rather preoccupied with the growing issue of crowding students. It was right then that they both seemed to agree they needed to put an end to it and restore order. So, Michael and Sarah stood, excusing themselves for just a moment and began to walk over to the back table.

"What the hell was that?" Draco hissed the moment the two presidents were out of earshot.

"Erm," Hermione began at a loss. "I panicked?" she asked, shying away slightly as he seemed to leer at her.

A low grumble came forth from his chest. They didn't have much time to discuss anything really. There were many things he wanted to speak to her about, but one thing took priority. He reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. After handing the paper to her, he waited and kept a look out while she opened it and scanned the contents.

No sooner had her eyes shifted quickly than they widened and gleamed. "I think, Mr. Malfoy, that the bet is mine," she stated triumphantly.

"Don't do anything rash," he warned, but to no avail. He had been afraid of this.

Hermione promptly stood up, not giving him anymore than a quick grasp of his shoulder as signal to follow. Then she briskly walked off.

Her behavior was no longer noticed as everyone was in an uproar, watching the sole table in the back as Sarah and Michael finally reach it. She was already out the door by the time the mystery seemed to have been uncovered.

Now that everyone seemed to have viewed the photos, they wanted to see the real thing. Michael especially, now sporting a rather unseemly bulge, his flushed face scoured the head table for his quarry. Vera was gone, nowhere in sight, as everyone soon came to realize. The logical conclusion was that she'd fled in utter horror. Given her shy temperament, fleeing the scene was not unwarranted.

However, Vera's brother was there. Closing in on the table, determination in his eyes. Everyone scrambled, knowing what the consequences of crossing the protective brother would be. Several people wondered where the principal was, wishing he were here as reassurance that no one would be killed at the hands of an enraged Val Valor.

The spectacle was over not more than ten minutes after it had started.

"That wasn't so bad," Michael commented to his dubious counter part, as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Could have been much worse," Sarah also sighed, wondering how to change their game plan at this recent surge of events.

Sarah was surprised Val had done nothing more than walk over, stalking easily through the open path everyone made for him, snatch several photos, glance at them and sprint out the door. His sister must have run off long ago, realizing what everyone was looking at. A smirk came across her face. The innocent witch got what was coming.

The morning event had eventually calmed down and all but blown over. It wasn't until hours later that anybody realized something was amiss.

Where were Val and Vera? They seemed to have vanished just as with the case of the other missing students. Only now, Fabriano was at a loss for explanation since the Rune's hazing had been stopped, so no more fools should be gone.

That night it was much to everyone's surprise when their three missing students showed up, slightly worse for the wear, but otherwise unharmed.

None of them seemed to remember anything.

* * *

With a pop, Hermione apparated just outside the Pantheon in Rome. She couldn't keep the smile off her face as she reached down to her necklace and held the pendant up higher.

The silver chain fell to her sternum, suspending an owl figurine. The small owl was also silver, but she was waiting for it to glow orange. Between them, Hermione had the necklace and Draco had the ring. The two items were linked, so that each was completely traceable to the other.

She had apparated in a rush without even bothering to explain a thing to Draco. In fact, he hadn't even made it to the atrium when she was out the doors of Druids Mantra and making the next move.

As the owl flashed orange, there was another pop, and Draco stood beside her seething. He hadn't even taken notice of their surroundings before he began to rant and vent his anger. While their location was as discreet as could be, his voice drew the attention of many.

"What in Merlin's name are these!" he shouted, successfully declaring their presence to every muggle within earshot.

She pulled him forcefully by the shirt as he attempted to wave a pile of photos in front of her face. She ignored him until they had a slightly more concealed location behind a nearby tree. It was hard with all the tourists. There really was no place they could go that was not within view of someone, much like King's Cross on the first day of school.

Draco wasn't relenting, so she finally snatched the pictures from his hand and shuffled through them with little more than a cursory glance.

"I think they're rather funny don't you? Never realized how big your clothes looked on me," she said casually. This was a mistake of course, since he began shouting again.

"Funny? FUNNY?" His next few words were made incoherent by the clamping hand of Hermione. She barely managed it though, reaching up on her tiptoes to cover his mouth sufficiently. He knocked her arm aside. "What were you doing before you came to see me?" he asked vehemently.

"Well I think we both know there was bound to be some sort of alarm I tripped. They made me tea and we chatted for a few minutes before they let me leave without saying anything to anyone."

"And you didn't think it worth mentioning the moment you entered my room?"

Now he sounded like her father or something. "Look, we have more important matters at hand than a few stupid pictures." Hermione sighed, truly not wanting to focus anymore on what really didn't matter.

His lips formed a fine line and his nostrils flared slightly, something he didn't do unless he was seriously peeved. "We'll discuss this later Granger. There are a few things you need to be made aware of." He grabbed the pictures back from her and stuffed them in his pocket.

She eyed him for a moment, biting her lip, beginning to feel really bad. She didn't think he'd be so upset. "Draco, I'm sorry."

He narrowed his eyes in response, reminding himself he needed to remain angry, even under the puppy dog gaze she gave him now. He would not relent. For her own good, he would impress this sole point upon her. "Care to enlighten me as to why we are outside the Pantheon?" he asked coldly.

Sighing, Hermione pushed the confrontation to the back of her mind. 'Fine, if he wants to talk about it later, we will. Maybe by then he won't be angry,' she thought, as she set her mind to their new task. "The flier you showed me, this is the starting point. We follow the hazing path and we find the missing students," she reasoned.

"Yes, thank you for making it all clear," he said sarcastically. "Why hadn't I thought of that?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Well, perhaps you would have liked to have shown me the flier a little sooner," she challenged.

"I only just got it after you left," he returned. He still didn't see why the Gryffindor princess had acted so rashly and utterly out of character. Not even he acted without thinking, and she had just done so under the worst possible circumstances.

"Did you plan on going through with the tour then?" Her tone seemed subdued now, almost hurt.

Furrowing his brows, he couldn't seem to follow where this was coming from. "Yes," was all he could answer, not knowing what she was getting at.

Her eyes and face moved downcast. It would seem she was hurt now. "Mmm," was her only response. Not even enough in her to mumble, 'I see.'

"Granger," he began, but was cut off by her head snapping up and a fiery look to her honey brown eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't have gone on that so called tour even if it lead me straight to the missing students," she huffed. "I'm not about to go anywhere near that sleaze ball of a principal."

Draco shut his eyes and mentally kicked himself. How could he have been so stupid? He had been so preoccupied thinking he'd keep Fabriano's hands off her that he missed the option of avoiding the situation all together. "Still, you could have told me what you were up to. That was wrong of you and you know it," he said with a ruffle of her hair. He winced at her next words.

"I thought you would have known," she said meekly, her words flowing with sincerity.

"Don't do this Granger," he sighed, all his anger gone, all his walls crumbling.

"Do what?" she asked.

"Make me forgive you," he said, pulling her in with one arm for a quick hug and soft kiss on her head. As he stepped back, he ruffled her hair again. He tried to focus on what they should be doing. "Right, so now we follow the runes."

>>


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

**Surprises in a Dark Forest**

Following the trail of breadcrumbs actually proved to be quite fun in Hermione's opinion. Even Draco seemed to enjoy himself, as their constant location change began to feel like a vacation of eighty countries in one day.

At the moment, Draco was feeling quite amused at how much fun Hermione seemed to be having. Though he knew she'd never admit to it, especially when it was supposed to be nothing but work. Still, there was no mistaking that gleam in her eye and the earnest grappling her fingers made for paper and pen when they came upon yet another set of runes for her to decipher.

Draco could have easily gave a helping hand, since he was also versed in the ancient runes of their world, but he let Hermione do it, since it made her happy.

From the Pantheon to the Parthenon to some vineyard in Greece to L'Arc de Triumph to Tour L'Eiffel to Stonehenge to Ground Zero to Notre Dame's cathedral to a tea house in a dingy part of Tokyo to The Great Wall to a random warehouse in Berlin to somewhere in the middle of Madrid, Spain.

So many places and not a moment spared on soaking in the sights. The only good part about it was that they didn't need to spend their energies on constant apparition. Once Hermione had crack the code and read their next destination aloud, the words acted like a portkey and whisked them away to another location where runes were hidden within at least twenty feet.

For all the places they had gone and recorded, scribbled down in something Hermione called a notebook, there was no trace of any missing students.

The sun was beating down on them, in the middle of the Sahara. The charm of solving the riddle was beginning to wear off as Hermione wiped her forehead of condensing moisture. It figured that the one time they had difficulty uncovering the next set of runes it was in the middle of a desert at high noon.

"This is getting redundant," Draco stated, pointing to a template secured within the sand. He wondered if they were just lucky it wasn't buried ten feet under or whether it had been charmed to remain free of covering layers.

"I know what you mean," she sighed, walking over to examine the inscribed symbols. As she copied what she saw her brows furrowed.

"Guess again Granger, it is _really _redundant."

Indeed, aside from the nonstop traveling they'd been doing for the past four hours, now their course overlapped. He recognized the runes the moment he saw the misplaced rock's surface. It pointed them to the Pantheon. 'Back to square one, eh?' he thought grimly.

Hermione groaned, "Well, at least we can get out of this heat."

With that, she declared their location, grasping Draco's bunged up sleeve. They were gone.

The change in temperature was truly overwhelming. Hermione smiled and gave a loud contented sigh. "Much better"

"I'm beginning to wonder if this isn't some goose chase. You don't suppose Fabriano knew, do you?" Draco asked, now toying with the idea that they were being strung along, much as he was unwilling to admit it.

Still reveling in the more amiable atmosphere, Hermione chose to ignore Draco's last comment, since it almost sounded more like a thought accidentally spoken aloud.

Instead, Hermione took an unguarded moment and delighted in the noise of passing tourists. They stood in the midst of the Piazza Della Rotunda. Earlier that morning they had been further off, avoiding being seen.

Perhaps they should discuss some things, like when this would end, if ever. They should take a short break and relax a little. She made her way over to the fountain and sat nearby, the sound of gushing water was extremely nice, it was slightly cooler there, and the fact that no matter where she looked her eyes found some beautiful structure or sculpture didn't hurt.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Draco sat back on his hands and cast his head up to the sky, letting the sun wash over his face.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence he finally spoke, since Hermione seemed content enough to remain unspeaking. "Seriously, do you think this is a wild goose chase?" He didn't bother to look at her as he spoke, but remained staring upwards behind closed lids.

Mimicking his posture, Hermione stretched her legs out, and leaned back, propped up by her two arms. The sun was bright, so as she cast one last glance at Draco she left one eye squinted shut. Her shoulders came to his upper arm and her feet reached out to his mid calf. It was rather comical really, like five-year-old copying their idolized teen of an older sibling. Crossing her ankles she answered, "Yes"

"Oh?" he questioned.

"That's what hazing is, for the most part. The whole thing was random as far as I can tell, and only meant to determine our own worth for the club. There wasn't going to be some rune that said, 'Congratulations, you know your ancient runes, welcome to the club and here are the missing students.'" When she recited the part about the rune's translation, she put on a voice much like Sarah's.

At this Draco stirred, looking down upon Hermione's dark gold halo of curls and waves. "So, what are we doing here? We can't very well go back." She needed to explain a bit more frankly what her plans were exactly. He wouldn't forgive her rashness earlier if it turned out she had no back up plan now.

"I didn't say what we are doing is fruitless." Now she met his downturn gaze, seeing his impatient eyes. "Somewhere along the line there has to be a clue. The students all followed this path-"

Draco interrupted her, pointing out an important factor, "That's if they made it this far. If they didn't make it to the end, then there is no telling where they got stuck."

"Draco," she complained, calling his name like she were chastising Ron for chewing with his mouth open, but instead of bad table manners she was reprimanding him for thinking her a fool. "We are on the same page here," she reminded him. He might have been training longer than her, but she had already managed to catch up in many ways. Besides, she was pretty clever to begin with, Auror training or not. "These were students from Druids Mantra, poster school for nerdy know-it-alls."

"I thought it was Dark Arts, and if it's for nerdy know-it-alls why aren't you leading their recruiting campaign?"

"Funny guy," she commented wryly, giving his side a hard pinch.

"Ow!" he yelled, flinching away from her touch, but in turn mussing her hair.

"My point was," she resumed her explanation, flipping her tresses out of the way after Draco had messed them up further, "that no matter how green any of them were, they would have been able to come this far at least. These are all basic runes," she said, gesturing to the notebook in her lap. "If they were going to Druids Mantra and if they were interested in ancient runes enough to join the club for it, they most certainly would have been capable to getting this far."

"I know that, and I didn't doubt that you knew that," he assured. "But, there is always a possibility. We may have overlooked something in the mad dash you called investigating."

Narrowing her eyes in a serious concern she questioned his view of her, "We are quite possibly dealing with three kids' lives here. Do you think I would hasten this along so much that I'd overlook things?" It was true she had jumped the gun a little, but she was far from not thinking and calculating everything out in her head.

"You Gryffindors have always been ruled by your emotions. As I see it, you had a lot going on in that head of yours this morning." It was an honest answer, one which he immediately regretted the moment the last word left his lips. Even he couldn't deny the underlying accusation in it.

He shifted uncomfortably, not used to the swell of emotions now churning inside him. The pained look in her eyes made him feel something he would describe closely to guilt and sadness. The moment seemed to drag on forever, as he waited for Hermione to react. But, she didn't. She just looked up at him, with eyes now swimming in tears he knew she was fighting to keep from falling. Stubborn Gryffindor, so emotional and yet resistant to letting others see.

Gulping visibly, Hermione strained to keep her tears in. Why should it matter? What did she care what Draco Malfoy thought of her? She had been ignoring his comments for the past six years, so why would this make a difference? Whether or not she had an answer didn't matter, since it didn't change how hurt she felt. Did he really think so little of her? After all they had been through this summer?

Somehow, it was just as bad as Harry or Ron saying it. How could he think she'd make another's life forfeit simply because she didn't like the look some perverted principal was giving her? Finally she spoke up, saying the first thing that came to mind, "I see our definitions of trust are rather different."

"Herm-" he began, but stopped as she abruptly stood up and took a determined stance.

"I'll prove I'm right!" she stated in a triumphant tone, all hints of hurt or sadness gone. "Let's go!"

'Stubborn Gryffindor,' he thought, standing to follow her as she spotted a set of engraved markings on the fountain. It seemed odd they wouldn't have caught that earlier, but again he attributed it to a charm that kept it hidden until they had made the rest of their stops.

While part of Hermione had been hoping that the return to the piazza outside the Pantheon had marked the end of the location hopping, she was wrong. Though none of the other places were repeated, things carried on in the same manner for another three trips.

Now they stood on the outskirts of a very forbidding forest. It was most peculiar how they were on top of a grassy field, when naught fifty feet ahead was an immensely dense line of trees. It seemed the forest had no gradual change of scenery, but altered right from a grassy meadow full of sunshine and flowers to a dark forest of stifled air and questionable fog.

There was no telltale monument to suggest they had reached the right place. But, several other locations had been unknown to them and relatively obscure, so there could be no assumptions about this.

Hermione however, felt inclined to listen to the instinctive voice in her head telling her, 'This is it! End of the line.'

Although they were both of the same mindset, that there would be no next clue to find, they made a good search of the area to rule it out. Once they were satisfied, they congregated back to where they had first appeared and crept forth to the immense canopy of high branches and leaves.

It felt unnatural for the ever-present mist to reach out and curl around their ankles upon making their entrance. Without a doubt this place resided in the realm of magic, or rather vice versa.

Step after silent step, they made their way side by side deeper into the forest. Shortly after the edge of trees marking their entrance could no longer be seen, the pathway seemed to narrow.

Draco was inclined to take the lead and have Hermione follow behind, but she didn't seem to agree. Instead she opted for walking so close their arms were pressed together. This would have been a problem if Draco weren't left handed, but since he was and she was a dominant user of her right, though he'd seen her switch it up, they were good. Besides, it felt better to have he right next to him, where he could be absolutely certain of her presence.

Neither uttered a single word, since they were better at reading each other's body language, and without the sounds of other creatures it didn't feel like a good idea to announce a new arrival. It was against most natural laws to have a forest that was void of all animal life, magical creatures or other, so the dead silence was rather unsettling.

Finally, the distant hoot of an owl reached their ears, causing them both to nearly sigh in relief. Slowly, but steadily, more noises were added. Birds, bats, nymphs, faeries, and various four legged creatures that fled before their forms were identifiable.

The forest didn't seem so _off _now, even though the mist only seemed to grow, along with the logically impossible breezes that ruffled the leaves and swept through Hermione's curls on various occasions.

Draco glanced down at Hermione, just making out her features in the dim light, which was getting progressively darker by the minute. Her eyes darted back and forth furiously, scouring the area tirelessly. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. Such determination in the little Gryffindor was encouraging.

On and on they went, no sign of recent visitors anywhere, though it was impossible to be certain in their given lighting. It had become completely dark by now, but the gradual change had allowed their eyes to adjust well enough to keep to the path and follow what was before them.

Hermione's hand had taken a hold of his shirtsleeve at some point along the way. Grasping it as though she feared she'd become lost the second he moved away. He fought a smirk that attempted to play across his face. He most certainly shouldn't be feeling so elated at her unconscious actions.

The kitten was still there, no doubt about it. Though he wondered if perhaps the kitten were still an alter ego or part of her now? 'No,' he surmised, the lioness and the kitten were still worlds apart. Even though he'd begun to pick up on little gestures that resembled the affectionate Angelus persona, he knew the bonding mentioned before was not complete.

If Hermione had completely received her powers, then she would have jumped him by now. Somewhere along the line, he had concluded that this would be the sign for it. Once Hermione had gained total control, thus meshing with the kitten, she'd surely act just like the affectionate little devil that felt so inclined to draped all over him.

The sound of a branch breaking jerked Draco from his reverie and study of Hermione's gentle features. Automatically, he reached for his wand, only to have Hermione grasp his wrist and push it down. In the darkness it was rather difficult to convey all the messages he wanted to, but she seemed to pick up on his questioning look easily enough.

'No magic,' she mouthed.

Watching her plump red lips form each syllable, it took him a moment longer to comprehend her meaning. 'Damn Moody,' he thought. He had forgotten all about the ridiculous guidelines set in place for them.

The quite after the first branch snap was more alarming than if there was loud rustling and the sound of some creature scampering off. When no further sound came, they had no choice but to move on. Hermione had let go of Draco's sleeve, much to his internal protest, and moved behind him. He understood of course, she was flanking him as added caution.

The coldness he now felt on his right side urged him to pull her back beside him. But, his back suddenly felt flushed with warmth when he felt Hermione take hold of the tail of his shirt. Perhaps it was okay then.

Still alert, Hermione dropped back to cover from behind while Draco took care of what lay ahead.

The mist at their ankles was now a dense fog swirling from the knee down. If she could use magic she'd cast a repelling charm on herself, so that if only for a few feet around her legs she would be able to see the ground where the dense puffs parted. It was not her first choice of terrain, to be walking as silently as possible when you couldn't even see what you were stepping on. From the sound of twigs and branches they heard in the distance every now and then, the ground did contain something other than soft damp dirt. They were pretty lucky to not have made much noise.

The sound of wood snapping made her think, 'I jinxed it.' But, after Draco stopped and searched around in a very severe glare, she realized it hadn't been them. If the sound had been so near that she thought it was one of them who'd caused it, then they were indeed being followed.

She could feel it now, the eyes that were watching. Draco had surely felt it sooner. He was always quicker when it came to that. But, she felt it now too, which meant it was close.

'Very close!' her mind yelled as she heard its step taken in the soft earth right behind her.

While part of her wanted to merely shrug it off as some curious animal, she couldn't ignore the impending doom felt in her gut. It was yelling at her to 'RUN!' But, she didn't. Instead, she stood firmly rooted, prepared to take on anything, and if her hand squeezed Draco's shirt a little more tightly, making wrinkles in the wrinkle free cotton fabric, then it was out of concern that he might move on and lose her in the fog.

Draco sensed her frame tighten in anticipation. It was almost too much to handle when he felt her hand clench his shirt. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and whisper that she'd be fine and to leave everything to him. Doing that however would not only be dangerous, since there was more to focus on than making Hermione feel better, but would get him slapped. He could just see her reaction to something like that now, he'd be nursing a stinging cheek or perhaps bruised eye while she ranted on about how stupid he was and how she didn't need his protection.

The anticipation was the worst. Hermione's mind began to misbehave as it imagined things that weren't there. She imagined for a brief moment that she could hear haggard breaths just behind her, she imagined she could feel the warm breath on the back of her neck, she imagined the cold rough hand on her shoulder. 'Son of a-' she thought, realizing too late that none of it was simply in her mind.

Before she could even finish calling out to Draco who was scanning the trees and path ahead, he whipped around and pushed her out of the way. Now, she was at his back again, only he was between whatever had been following them and her.

Quickly, she nudged her head under his arm, which seemed intent on being wrapped around her, and looked at the spot she'd just been. Her eyes widened in shock. 'What in the world?' she thought in disbelief.

Draco's arm squeezed her tightly.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

**The Proposition**

Hermione stood, being held tightly against Draco, while she stared wide eyed at the place she had just been standing seconds before.

A man wearing a top hat and old-fashioned tailcoat tuxedo stared straight back at her. He didn't look at Draco, but directly at her, never blinking or speaking. It appeared as though he'd come directly from a ballroom party a century ago. His narrow jaw was cleanly shaven. His hands donned white gloves, one carrying a polished black cane. He had sleek sideburns, and from what she could see from under the hat he had black hair.

There was no possible logic to the man's presence before them, so they both spent a moment at a total loss. He still hadn't blinked, which was creeping Hermione out even more. Part of Hermione wanted to ask Draco what he thought they ought to do, but she doubt he'd know any more than she did.

Making to move away from Draco, she was unable to do so. Draco's hold remained firm, and at the movement of her muscles he squeezed tighter. Because of this she glanced at him quickly, breaking her gaze with the tailcoat and top hat guy.

Ignoring the fact that she was in no position to begin an interrogation, she tried anyway. "Sir?" she began, her voice betraying her uncertainty.

The man gave her a large toothy grin, which made his face seem like that of a madman. It was unnatural for so many teeth to be displayed in one smile, not to mention they all seemed to be slightly pointed. If Hermione didn't personally know that no one had entire sets of canine teeth, then she might be inclined to think that it were so.

It was quite possibly the most unsettling thing she had ever seen, and she had seen many disturbing events. Following the smile of the insane, the man blinked pointedly twice, took another moment, and then spoke.

"Welcome, welcome, my dear friends. You're just in time, oh yes, you have great timing. Your timing is truly great. A spot of tea shall suit us three, but I fear the others shall be late." His voice was uneven, going high-pitched and too loud at random moments, as though he had a speech impediment, but it seemed intentional.

Her spine tingled from his words. "Uh…" Hermione was still at a loss, so she started with the first thing that struck her as important. "What others?" 'Don't tell me I'll have to deal with a whole ballroom full of dressed up loons,' she hoped silently, wishing the situation didn't become worse.

The smile still remained, along with that gleam in his eyes. Now cocking his head to the side, he put a hand to his ear. "Shh! Just listen!" He paused. "Can you hear? Yes indeed, they are quite near. Too close I say, too close for me. Follow along, and meet my three!"

Suddenly, he disappeared. But, before either could ask a question to the other, they heard labored breathing from behind. Hermione and Draco found the man standing behind them instead. They both whipped around and stood crouched, ready to fight.

The guy was jogging in place, frantically hiking each knee up higher and higher, and causing the fog to swirl about. "Come along, come along!" he urged, now ceasing his flamboyant jog. He began heading further along the way they had been going.

Hermione nearly cried out as she watched him move forward, gliding along. His feet didn't move, or did they? The fog covered much of it, but no one walked that smoothly. How utterly disturbing he seemed.

Clutching Draco's side, she ventured forth. Part of her knew that to disagree would be a mistake. This was not someone they wanted to upset.

Shortly after they trekked along, following at a distance, Hermione opened her mouth to ask a question, but found herself lacking the will to follow through. If she asked him anything then he'd turn around, and she didn't want to see his face again, or his teeth.

Casting a glance at Hermione, Draco finished what she had started. "What's your name?" he voiced loud enough to be heard even by the man several feet ahead.

Silence was their answer, until they saw his cane swing back and forth and his gliding came to a slow stop. Smoothly he turned around, beaming a toothy grin their way.

Again he vanished, but Draco half expected something like this to occur again, so he was more ready. It was something like flash step, at least that's all he could guess, so he was able to sense where the man ended up, which was right beside Hermione. Pulling her away slightly, he waited for the next move.

Hermione was slightly less apt to sense the movements of someone using flash steps, or something like it in this case, so she was a bit surprised when she found the man towering over her.

"My name, my name, my name, my name, my name. MY NAME!" he shouted, leaning his face closer and closer to Hermione's each and every time he uttered the words.

Now his nose was an inch from Hermione's, and his eyes stared directly into hers. She gulped, as she saw that his eyes were totally dark, they were black. There was no color difference between the pupil and the iris. Even in this dark light, she could easily tell the color of Draco's eyes, so it wasn't the lighting. Who had black eyes? Dark brown perhaps, sometimes appearing black. But pitch black?

Never blinking, he just looked into Hermione's eyes, smiling madly. His mouth started to move, but no sound came out.

"Okay Blain. That's a little too close." Draco said as he stepped back, taking Hermione with him. Blain was the name the man was mouthing, and while he uttered no sound, Draco could read lips.

The man supposedly called Blain began to mutter something. Still, he remained bent and leaning forward as before. After a few moments, the sound became progressively louder and they were both able to hear him whispering, "Blain, Blain, Blain, Blain, Blain." He kept repeating it over and over again. Very soon his whispers became shouts, until he was shouting, "BLAIN, BLAIN, BLAIN!"

Abruptly he stopped shouting and bowed down low from the waist. Even though his head was tilted at such an extreme angle, his top hat stayed in place. Next he knelt down on one knee, straightened his back, and then scuttled awkwardly forward to kneel closer in front of Draco. "Fair maidens!" he cried, reaching out to take hold of Draco's hand. Before he could touch Draco, who was looking at him with such fury Hermione had never seen before, Blain yelped in pain and jumped back.

Hermione was biting her lip so hard, she again felt the pain of her tooth piercing the skin and blood being drawn. The pain was at the back of her mind however as she tried desperately to keep laughter in. While Blain nursed an apparently injured hand, she convulsed with silent laughter.

Draco looked down at Hermione, scowling. "Not a word Granger," he growled fiercely. The guy was obviously out of his mind if he had mistaken Draco for a girl.

Hermione whimpered in response, unable to manage much more for fear of starting a fit of giggles. She could tell Draco would get seriously upset if she did laugh. Instead, she fought it off with promises of making fun of him later.

The mood returned to its serious and solemn nature once again, when Blain jumped to his feet clutching his hand to his chest. The white glove he had donned before was now scorched. 'Odd,' Hermione thought. He stalked forth, advancing yet again on Hermione. "BLOOD!" he shouted. "Sweet, sweet blood. I smell it. Indeed, I always smell it. Sense it, sense it. See it, I now see it!"

Blain's eyes were fixed on Hermione's face. It took her a moment to realize what he was getting at. The words he spoke were a little difficult to piece together correctly, plus she had forgotten about her lip. Indeed, there was a trickle of blood that ran from her pierced lip to her chin. Instinctively, she licked her lip free of the red substance. With her sleeve she wiped the rest off.

As Hermione did this, Blain stuttered a move forward, reaching his hands out as if to touch Hermione's face. He stopped short though, seeming to realize he couldn't and settled for licking his lips and staring hungrily at her. "Taste, taste, taste. I sense and see and see and see. But, taste I don't, I want, I want. Let me taste a little. Touch I cannot, cannot I touch. Let me taste, I won't take much." He started to rock back and forth on his heels. "Taste and touch, I won't take much," he chanted this a few more times before settling down and staring at Hermione again.

Draco just looked at him incredulously, with one brow raised in question. After a moment he smirked. "Go for it," he stated.

Hermione turned her head up to Draco to ask if he was insane, but just then Blain launched himself forward. Easily, she could have dodged the attack, but Draco held her in place, tightening his hold on her to make sure she remained.

Just when she thought Blain would tackle her, he disappeared again. This trick of his was becoming rather annoying, as Hermione was having difficulty sensing where he landed.

She was having a hard time deciding what to do first, yell at Draco and ask what page he was on that left her at a loss for his actions or figure out where Blain had gone. Before she could do either, however, Blain let her know where he was by speaking.

"Wretch! Foul!" he shouted, now standing next to Draco, but seeming far less intimidating since he couldn't leer down at the blonde's tall frame.

Hermione watched clueless as Draco continued to smirk. Tutting, Draco seemed to carry an all-together condescending air toward Blain. "Come now Blain. Name calling is not very nice," he chastised in a mocking tone. "How was I to know you couldn't touch her?"

While Blain still looked livid, he had backed down. His eye twitched a little and his head jerked, but then he smiled widely at them. "Yes, yes, of course, of course." Raising his cane, he began to twirl it about his fingers as though it were a baton. "Peculiar, indeed!" he exclaimed. "The others should know, right away, yes, yes."

"Blain," Draco started, more serious now. "Perhaps we should meet the other three, err, while drinking tea."

It was painfully obvious that Draco had to force the last few words out, but it did the trick, as Blain seemed to agree.

"Come fair maidens! Follow along!" he called, earning a growl from Draco. His jovial ranting was not deterred however. "Do keep up, or you will regret, for this adventure you cannot forget! I move quite fast, so do not lag. This begins, our game of tag!" With that he vanished yet again.

"Follow my lead!" Draco said, before vanishing himself.

Not wanting to be left behind, she tracked and followed Draco's movements. Still new to the process, she was afraid to fall more than one step behind, lest she lose him and be forgotten.

Shortly into this little game of tag, Hermione found herself tiring quickly. Flash steps were not meant be taken in such large strides and for such a prolonged period. She was still learning and mastering the art to begin with, and the only thing that kept her going was the need to not be left behind and keep up with Draco. So she carried on, urging herself to keep it up, not to stop.

Not more than an hour, with a sufficiently tired Hermione, Draco started to wonder how much longer he could keep it up as well. Surely, he'd have to stop once he sense Hermione falter. Blain solved this problem for him however, as the madman had finally settled upon a nearby location for more than a fraction of a second. This was the end of the line. With one final step Draco met Blain and was joined by a gasping Hermione.

Breathing deeply also, Draco stilled to catch his breath fully and take in their new surroundings. They were in a clearing in the middle of the forest. For the first time since they had left the bright blue sky behind, Draco could see past the canopy of leaves and look at the darkening dusk sky.

The clearing was of a generally circular shape, roughly twenty feet in radius. The ground was covered in plush green grass free of fog, where as just as the tree line began there was a dirt ground, thick with the white watery gas. At the center of the tree free zone was a glamour. Hermione and Draco could both feel its presence, which meant there was something there they weren't openly seeing.

Draco moved back a couple steps and joined a heaving Hermione, who would have thrown up from the knots her stomach was in, if she had anything to be thrown up. Rubbing gentle circles over her back, he stood beside her as she regained some composure.

Blain took a couple steps toward them, then a step back, and another couple forward before another back. In this repeated pattern he made his way to the two of them. "Dear ladies, dear ladies, how swiftly you move, it is for this that I truly approve. My friends will come soon, but I'd much rather drink." He walked to the center of the small field and waved his hand at what could only be the glamour.

Hermione and Draco watched aptly as the enshrouding magic fell and Blain revealed what lay hidden behind it. Three dark mounds marked the grass.

It took Hermione a second to recognize the folds of material that were shirts and cloaks. Without even having a positive confirmation of identification, she knew the mounds were the three students.

Unable to control herself, she shouted out, "Are they alive?"

Blain turned to her, smiling even wider than before, eyes shut in apparent glee. "Alive? Oh yes, of course swift lady."

"They need to go home now," Draco stated, sounding rather angry.

The smile on Blain's face fell and his eyes opened in question. "Home, home, go home?" he questioned, stepping a little closer to the three students.

"Yes," came Draco again, in that ever-commanding tone.

"Mine, they are mine, mine, MINE! I keep, right here!" he argued becoming upset, which Hermione felt a prickle of fear at.

Before Draco could flat out challenge him to a duel, Hermione intervened hoping to solve things as diplomatically as possible. "Why do you want them?" she asked.

"They are peculiar creatures. Runes they said, they said runes. I don't know, I don't know. Peculiar, I'm intrigued," he ranted.

"Bullocks!" Draco shouted.

Hermione slapped her forehead at this point. 'Why doesn't he just throw the first punch?'

Blain didn't seem to notice Draco's comment and stared on intently at the two of them. "I feed, I feed. I admit this, I need. But, need or feed, I'm far more intrigued."

"Malfoy, I think you should cool it a little. Don't go upsetting people until certain other people are safely out of the way," Hermione said this through clenched teeth.

"What would you have me do? Discuss things more civilized over tea?" he asked, "Because I think, _fair maiden_, that having anymore tea might just kill the three of them."

"Well, I don't suggest blowing on embers and starting a fire. We're in a forest Draco, no telling how out of hand the flames could get," she chastised.

He grunted in concession. Then after a moment's thought he smirked.

'Oh no," Hermione thought, seeing his smirk. That trademark smirk of his always meant trouble, at least this one did.

"Blain," Draco began, causing Hermione to groan. "I have a proposition for you."

"Proposition?" Blain questioned warily.

"If you hand over the three of them," he gestured to the students behind Blaine, "then I

will let you see something far more interesting. You may have heard of them, being

a vampire."

"Vampire!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly. For some time, she'd suspected as much,

but she wasn't sure. Now that Draco agreed she was a little proud that she was correct.

"I listen, I wait, do tell," Blain called out in a singsong voice. Sauntering closer, he removed his top hat, revealing slick black hair beneath. Seeing his face without the shadow from the hat and in a slightly better lit area made his pale skin stand out drastically.

"Have you ever seen an Angelus?" Draco asked.

Blain stopped dead in his tracks, dropping his cane and hat to the ground. He stared wide-eyed at Draco. "An Angelus? I WANT IT! GIVE IT TO ME NOW! LET ME SEE, LET ME SEE!"

"Of course Blain, but only after the students are back where they belong," Draco reasoned.

Blain nodded frantically, stepping to the side and gesturing an open hand at the three unconscious bodies, granting them access.

"You take them back to the school," Draco whispered in Hermione's ear.

Giving him a questioning look, but receiving a firm and serious one in return, she walked to the students. She was most cautious as she passed Blain and she heard him sniffing in the air right when she neared. As she caught a sudden glint from those onyx eyes of his, she was reluctant to turn her back to him. Draco was right there though, so she kept walking.

The three students appeared to be alright, though worse for the wear. Smears of dirt, mussed and tangled hair, dirtied clothes. But, all she wanted was a steady pulse and normal breathing, which she got. Reaching out and taking their hands, she closed her eyes in concentration and then apparated out of the clearing.

She remained with them only long enough to heal a few scrapes and wake them up. Then, she obliviated their memory, first searching their minds for the right ones.

Once that was taken care of Hermione returned to the clearing, finding things much the same as before.

"Alright Granger, give him a show worth the trade off," Draco stated.

Blain looked eagerly at her, waiting expectantly.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

**A Lesson Learned**

Hermione just gaped at Draco. "This was your plan?" What did he expect her to do?

Draco just stood there with his arms crossed and head held high in his usual 'I'm better than you' manner. His grey eyes seemed to dance with what Hermione perceived as mischief.

Grinning, he retorted, "Your audience grows impatient, _my dear_." Now he bowed slightly and waved an arm out, gesturing to Blain, who was practically jumping up and down.

Casting the blonde a dark look, she muttered under her breath, "He wants a show, I'll give him a show…lousy no good… outta tell him where he can shove this plan."

She walked towards Blain. The only thing to see from an Angelus was their wings. Because of this, Hermione knew what Draco meant by putting on a show.

Blain was still very creepy to her, so it was a little difficult to relax and concentrate when he was dancing from foot to foot no more than six inches from her. Glancing at Malfoy, she looked for reassurance, needing to know she could let her guard down without getting hurt.

Draco watched, grinning as Hermione passed by, hearing each word she muttered angrily. His feisty lioness never did like being ordered around, but she looked so cute when she was angry, so he did it anyway. When she reached Blain, she looked from the vampire to him. Her eyes conveyed the message, 'I need to concentrate, don't let him do anything while I'm not paying attention.'

He gave the smallest of nods.

Sighing, Hermione rolled her head around and shrugged her shoulders to release some tension. Only once before had she been able to do this on her own, without Moody there to throw her off the highest tower. This was how it would be done. 'Though, some of those trees looked pretty tall.' She shook her head at the ridiculous notion of freefalling once more.

A small chuckle escaped Draco as he watched her begin. Though too far away to be heard, he still raised a hand to stifle it and cover it as a cough. He wondered if she was considering jumping from a high branch. The last time she'd done this it had taken her a while, and Blain looked rather impatient. Telling her this would only make matters worse.

In truth, he'd set this up not only because it had worked out for the students, but because he wanted another chance to see her wings. He couldn't explain it, but every time she released even a tiny bit of raw magic, it trilled through him. Every fiber of his being felt it, and it was nothing less than euphoric and intoxicating. Somehow, he didn't think this was a normal reaction, since Moody seemed unaffected.

Time passed quickly as the moon rose in the sky and poured light into the clearing. Several times, Blain had started chanting little rhymes, only to be hushed by Draco and once by a very aggravated Hermione.

As the grass started to collect dew, the mist from the forest started to seep into the clearing, remaining still on the outskirts. It seemed as though Draco had forgiven Blain for his earlier misconception of the difference between a male and a female, apparently Blain didn't know any better.

Now, both vampire and rookie auror sat Indian style across from each other playing a game of reflexes. Draco held his hands out, palm down, while Blain held his just an inch beneath, palm up. Blain had been most amused by the game as he tried to slap Draco's hand before he jerked it away.

When Blain actually managed to slap Draco's hand he cried out in victory, "I win, I win! Victory is mine, but please dear sir, do not pine! Your turn, try me, I'm faster, you'll see!" Following the rules, they switched roles.

Hermione was concentrating so hard she was entirely unaware of their little game. She was getting closer, she just knew it. Before, she had conversed with the Angelus within her and asked to use her abilities.

While it had been difficult for her to accept originally, she now knew there was another part of her. It had begun as a different entity all together. Lately though, she started to feel more whole and complete, which was part of the process of fusing with her power, or 'the kitten' as Moody and Malfoy called it. Still, she found it almost impossible to reach that part of her unless she was sleeping.

But, she was close. Echoes resounded in her head. Whispers from far off started to become slightly more discernable from her own inner voice. Never had she felt more like a schizophrenic in her life as when she heard her own voice clear as day in her head.

'My dear girl, how can I help?' came the voice, which was her own but different at the same time.

'Err, I want to use your magic for bit, if I might,' she requested.

Laughter followed. 'Oh my, oh my. You mustn't feel like you need to ask. It's yours to use. I'm rather content, and quite the same as you now. It won't be long before you won't find me any separate from yourself. The bonding is nearly complete, as I told Draco I had no qualms being with you.'

'Oh, right, well, okay then,' she answered, totally unsure how to actually use the powers still.

'I'll give you a jump start if you do me a favor,' came her voice, but in a rather sly manner.

'Sure, anything.' She had spent too long just getting this far, and she still needed help, so she was desperate.

'Once your done, give me a few minutes with Draco.' Now her voice sounded eager.

'Okay,' Hermione agreed uncertainly, wondering what the hidden motive was that she detected.

'Perfect. Alright then. You ready?'

'Yeah…'

"Ow!" Draco yelled, as Blain slapped his hands so hard he thought they might bruise. He had been distracted, giving the vampire the chance to catch him off guard. The hairs on the back of his neck had tingled slightly, now a shiver ran down his back. As his eyes drooped slightly in pleasure, he commented, "She's ready Blain."

Not less than a second after Draco had pronounced the last syllable on Blain's name did the vampire vanish, reappearing in front of Hermione. Still wary about the questionable sanity of this particular vampire, who seemed to have been a touch more isolated than others, Draco rushed to Hermione's side as well.

He was afraid that in eagerness, Blaine might touch his partner. No one was allowed to touch her except for himself. Though, he doubted anyone could actually accomplish the task without her express permission.

The air seemed to pulse around her, kicking up a breeze that played in her hair and gently whipped her shirt about. Each vibration seemed to come in sync with Draco's heartbeat.

Draco was becoming excited too, almost as much as Blain who was wringing his hands and staring intently. Another shiver ran through him, and he felt compelled to do something. He didn't know what, but something. It felt like he couldn't stand still, but no action seemed to be the answer so he stepped closer before stepping back again.

A final burst of magic stirred the air, sending a harsher wind out. The mist receded, out of view, back into the dark forest.

'Merlin I could get used to seeing this,' Draco thought with an inward groan as he watched Hermione.

Blain was simply ecstatic, leaping into the air as he bound in a small circle about her. "Wings, wings, white wings, wings! Touch and feel and soft and smooth!" the giddy creature exclaimed.

Then the vampire stopped right in front of her and became completely still and calm. His eyes bore into hers as she looked up. Tilting his head to the side, he blinked. Next he turned his head to Malfoy and blinked again. "Touch, touch, TOUCH! Angelus I see, Angelus for me!"

Blain wanting to actually touch her was not something Draco had counted on, though it should have been obvious. He was more than hesitant to allow it. He wouldn't allow it. There still seemed to be something about this vampire that he didn't like.

"Go ahead," came Hermione's voice. It was her decision after all. As Blain stood before her, she detected something hidden within him, hence the creepy feeling she got from him since the moment they met. But his gaze didn't disgust her like Fabriano's.

Besides, the sooner Blain was satisfied, the faster they could be done and out of here. Not to mention, Hermione was a little irked that somewhere along the line Draco had convinced Blain that he was her keeper. Since when did Draco give permission regarding who could touch her?

This was sufficient enough for Blain, as he reached out and put his palm to Hermione's cheek, causing her to wince ever so slightly. Blain's eyes narrowed, and his overall expression became far more serious and level headed. "Beautiful," he muttered, in a tone that was not like any they had heard before. It was deeper and not on par with his previous lilting.

Blain trained his eyes on Hermione's, staring intently, never breaking contact. A veil seemed to fall, clouding her eyes and making her whole stature relax. Now she was putty in his hands, simple fools could not see through a simple playful act. Oh the joy he had felt when he first smelled her power. That magic that ran through her veins would taste so sweet.

The smirk that played across the vampire's face was all it took to set Draco off. His body was reacting as quickly as his mind, which suited his purpose for urgent speed quite well.

Blain was mildly surprised that the young man had managed to move so swiftly between him and his quarry. This just wouldn't do. He was certain he'd pegged them correctly. Though the Angelus might have held a few cards up her sleeve, certainly the blonde one was simply another wizard. He grinned in response however, still quite amused and not worried in the least.

There were a couple things Draco needed to do before he felt confident about facing off with Blain, and he didn't know if he could do it fast enough. The first was to snap Hermione out of her trance. The damn vampire dared to hypnotize her. It was painstakingly obvious. He should have seen this coming.

After tearing Blain away from her and thrusting him backwards with such force that caused Blain to use his speedy movements to prevent a hard landing, he shook Hermione's shoulders.

"Granger!" he shouted, pleased at the fast recovery she made. The sharp inquisitive look came back to her previously dull eyes. Now they were alight with that fire he so enjoyed watching, as she scanned the area piecing the unexplained together with ease.

"I say we're finished Malfoy," she stated, more than ready to leave.

"I'd have to agree," he answered. Then he leaned closer and whispered, "You may want to become slightly less conspicuous."

Rolling her eyes Hermione willed her wings away. For some reason the process was a cinch when done in reverse.

"Dear friends, dear friends, please let me make amends," Blain said, as he took a slow predatory step sideways, continuing on a path the circled them.

"Listen Blain, we've upheld our end of the deal, now we're done," Draco said.

"It was nice meeting you," Hermione chimed in as parting words. This earned an incredulous look from Draco, which she shrugged off, asking, "What?"

"'It was nice meeting you'?" he asked accusingly. At this point they seemed to have become slightly enraptured in their own little world, which they were often prone to doing, just not under such circumstances.

"Well, yeah, he's creepy and all, but I've never met a vampire before. It was a learning experience, nothing like what I've read," she defended.

Rolling his eyes at her, Draco scoffed, "You're not in school here, Moody isn't going to ask you what you learned when we get back."

"Some people like to learn for themselves Malfoy, maybe I've been trying to improve and do better because it's something I want, ever think of that?" she shot back.

Their little debate was ended abruptly however, as they sense a shift in the atmosphere. Something was coming.

They turned to Blain who stood looking rather amused watching them.

Upon seeing the fair-haired boy's questioning expression, Blain supplied an answer to the unasked question. Picking up his cane and twirling it mechanically, he smiled his smile and then grinned quite maniacally.

"Take care dear child, you're out of your league.

Some words of advice, you so desperately need,

My friends have arrived, much more than quite near.

Apparently before you chose not to hear.

I am never alone when hunting at night.

These woods are quite deadly and lacking in light.

Now you're surrounded, nowhere to turn.

I will finish my lesson, in death shall you learn."

'Shit!' Draco thought as he realized what the shift in pressure had been. His bloody friends had finally arrived. 'How fashionably late,' he thought wryly. 'How many?' he wondered.

"There's four of them," Hermione said almost under her breath.

Grinning, Draco turned around. "Now this is what I have been waiting for," he said as he raised his arms and took his stance, ready to fight.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and turned around as well, making it so they were back to back. She too took up the familiar fighting stance, though her confidence was slightly less and her stomach did a couple of apprehensive flips. After all, she was the lesser trained and not quite so adept at fighting, most especially without a wand.

Choosing to take on five vampires at once without using magic was definitely the cockiest decision Hermione had ever made, but she was following Draco's lead and secretly hoping to show Moody up for his lack of confidence that they could do it.

Briefly, her mind wondered if their mission would be considered complete by now, therefore giving them leeway to use their wands.

This musing was cut short however as she vaulted forth, dodging the first blow. 'They don't play nice do they?' she thought, having expected at least some courtesy of a pre duel declaration. Perhaps a clichéd 'En guard!' or 'Prepare to meet your doom!'

'Well, that's just fine. If that's how they want to play, then I'm game,' she concluded, combining a leg sweep and flash step together, to knock the feet out from the one who'd just tried to punch her.

Hermione didn't have time to watch Draco's progress, considering she was having a trifling time staying on top of her game. For the most part she spent her time dodging. The only time she attacked was when she was able to read a move far enough ahead, to dodge it and have time to place a well-calculated blow.

Though the numbers were not in their favor, Hermione had an advantage. Any direct contact with her scorched them painfully. Sadly, the same could not be said for Draco, which caused them to gang up on him.

Damn it all, if the four new arrivals didn't take Draco on, while Blain kept her busy enough to not allow her to assist. Blain was by far the most formidable of the lot.

Upon hearing a few injured noises from Draco she called out, "Malfoy?"

There was really nothing she could do, as she attempted a roundhouse to Blain's head, but was met with air and a vacant spot. Then she heard a sickening thud of a body against one of the trees on the border. Her heart skipped a beat as she tried her best to concentrate on where Blain was going to take his next mark. She couldn't falter, and yet Malfoy was possibly in a bloody heap at the foot of a tree with four vampires looming over him.

Blain had landed. She narrowly managed to guard his punch with her forearms, earning a screech from the smiling maniac as he pulled back a burned fist. Another sickening noise sounded, off to left this time.

It was the sound of a breaking bone, and the howling voice of the owner of the now cracked marrow. The howl didn't come from Draco, much to her relief.

"What is it Granger?" he called, shortly before he grunted at something one of the vampires had done.

"I think," she called from one side of the clearing, before dodging quickly and finishing while on the other end, "we should call it quits!"

"I hate to agree." He was suddenly right beside her. "But, we may be slightly outmatched."

Blain lunged forward, desperate to grab hold of the Angelus, regardless of the possibility that doing so would cost him his hand. The two had been playing all along, not intending to commit anything to the fight. Their escape was always possible, since wizards had that damnable apparation. That was why he had told his friends to just keep the hits coming, one after the other, not giving either enough time to convene or concentrate long enough to leave.

Outraged, Blain grasped air and was faced with the realization that he may have underestimated his opponents just as the one called Malfoy and Draco had underestimated him.

Hermione and Draco apparated away from the clearing. This was an escape, untraceable by other creatures. Their destination had been Hogwarts of course.

It was funny how different the weather could be in different locations. Where they were coming from, whether they had the chance to admire it or not, had been set under a clear starry night sky, lit by the full moon. Now, rain came down in torrents, even past the dense trees of a far more welcoming Forbidden Forest.

As much as they wanted to deny it, they were not fairing as well as they had hoped. Another lesson learned was not to overestimate one's own abilities or underestimate your opponent. Although this was something Moody had already impressed upon them, it was a small tidbit better learned through experience.

If in their hasty departure they were off their mark by a mile, it was made worse that neither had enough in them to correct it and take them back to an area closer to the school grounds.

Hermione was beginning to feel the effects of having unleashed raw magic, something she was far from overcoming since she was still far from even being able to release the magic easily in the first place, let alone build stamina for its aftermath.

And, Draco had received a far more brutal beating than she had. None of Blain's attacks had been intended to harm her beyond an incapacitating manner, but Draco had been target practice. Not to mention, he had four of them on him for the most part.

Wearily they began their trek to the school, both in a foul mood.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

**Disturbing Truths**

While two very weary and rather injured rookie Aurors made their way up to a sanctuary of a castle, a select group sat comfortably in the Headmaster's office.

A kindling fire warmed the room. The rain seemed to have brought a bit of a chill to the usually mild August air. The castle's stonewalls were the first to let cold in.

Behind Dumbledore's desk was the only visible window, which showed a sleet grey sky beyond the steady stream of water cascading down it. When the winds shift, the rain would rap harshly against the glass, reminding them that the rain hadn't let up in the least.

Those present in the office were all concerned, though perhaps for different reasons, about any news regarding Hermione and Draco.

The Headmaster sat behind his desk, slightly relaxed, and stared into the dancing flames while contemplating a few matters.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny were seated in conjured armchairs, while Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley paced back and forth behind them.

"Molly, Remus, please sit down. Moody will be here shortly." Dumbledore waved a hand and conjured another set of chairs. It seemed as though no matter how crowded his office became there was always room.

Harry and Ron had looks of fury plastered on their faces, while Ginny sat apprehensive and nervous.

Harry's eyes danced with his emotions, which he found rather difficult to contain. He was the first to speak. "Where is Hermione?" His low and steady tone carried a heavy undertone, leaving no room for any reply other than a direct answer.

Pressing his luck, Dumbledore studied Harry for a moment. Finding the young man would settle for nothing short of the absolute truth, he answered, "As far as we know she is in Italy attending a school called Druids Mantra." He stopped there, wondering if this would suffice, but was invariably compelled to divulge everything upon seeing Harry's expectant gaze. "She is playing the role of a very well known young woman called Vera Valor."

At these words, Molly Weasley gasped. Not even she had known the details. Neither had Remus apparently as he blanched visibly. But, it wasn't their place to question Dumbledore on this. After all, the assignment was common knowledge, but the details were top secret. So, they kept their mouths closed and allowed him to continue with whatever else he was going to reveal.

"Since her departure, we have not heard anything. But, this is not unexpected. In fact, Moody isn't even expecting to hear from her until the end of this week at least," the wise wizard assured upon seeing the horror flashing across fierce emerald and blue eyes.

While both Harry and Ron seemed at a loss for any of this being normal or expected, Ginny prompted the next question. "Haven't you had contact with her throughout the mission. I mean, how can you tell us you haven't heard from her, when that could very well mean she's… in trouble." The young redhead had to settle for her last choice of words, unable to bring herself to voice her own fears of never seeing the bright eyed know-it-all ever again.

"Yes, it was rather risky sending them off without any support, but the final decision was swayed by Draco. Both Moody and myself have the utmost confidence that they are capable enough to succeed." His eyes did not have their usual twinkle as he noticed the remaining uncertainty in all three young faces.

"Draco? Malfoy is with her then?" Harry asked in a low sardonic voice, almost scoffing at the idea of Hermione and Draco being together. It was becoming a constant theme at their tableside chats and he now found it annoying for the fact that he was becoming less surprised.

"Indeed," Dumbledore answered trying to impress that it was not just a common factoid, but a _good _thing. "They are partners and don't go anywhere without each other."

Upon seeing the cringing reaction from Ron, the Headmaster questioned whether he should keep going or not. His decision was made when he reminded himself that they were no longer the eleven year olds who needed to be protected from certain truths. Now they were young men, both needing to accept reality when presented with it. "Much as you like to argue with Mr. Malfoy, he is not the enemy."

Ron snorted. "Oh sure, because the past six years has made us the best of friends."

Molly wanted to chastise her son for speaking so boldly and out of line, but again she remained silent, knowing this was for the Headmaster to handle.

"As I have been here throughout those six years, I seem to recall that any hostility was not merely one sided. Mr. Malfoy has his reasons for being with us and has agreed that in light of more urgent circumstances his childish antics mean nothing." What would it take for the two of them to see passed their misconceptions and bias?

"Well, I haven't heard his reasons for suddenly changing sides," Ron spat.

"And nor will you Mr. Weasley," came Remus' voice, from behind them, lacking its usual warmth. "Everyone is entitled to privacy on some matters."

Somehow, Ron seemed crushed that the coolest professor and werewolf they knew had suddenly reprimanded him. He fell silent and brooded stormily, but was far more willing to listen.

Harry seemed to have a similar reaction, only now he questioned Remus to gauge the man's exact stance on the matter. "So, you trust Malfoy then?"

Remus stood from the edge of his seat and walked over to stand beside the desk, better able to face those he was talking to. He leaned casually against the piece of furniture and crossed his arms in an authoritative way. "Not nearly as much as either Dumbledore or Severus, but yes I do have some level of trust in him. Hermione seems to trust him implicitly, and I've always held her judge of character in high account."

Smiling at Remus seamless effort of tactful debate, Dumbledore gave an agreeing nod.

Silence followed as the words of the marauder washed over Harry and Ron. It was true. Malfoy was here to stay. While they may not like it, rather hated it actually, there was nothing they could do. Hermione trusted the blonde ferret, which made them slightly more accepting. They, however, were nowhere near ready to trust the ferret themselves.

There was one thing that Ron still refused to accept. "Hermione can't train as an Auror," he stated confidently, sitting straighter in the chair.

Remus cast on look at Dumbledore, giving him a quizzical look. Then he turned back to give Ron a disbelieving one. "Ron, you do know that she has already completed much of her training? She made her decision."

"It doesn't matter, she'll stop now," the redhead replied.

Much to Remus' surprise, Harry nodded in agreement and Ginny piped in, "I don't think she should be do it either."

"Am I to understand that you three as her best friends do not support the choice she has made?"

The three youths still didn't waver, but remained firm in their conviction on the matter.

'How odd, that they should accept Malfoy's choice over Hermione's,' the werewolf thought. Molly had summoned him there because the three young adults were more prone to listening to him than anyone else, even Dumbledore. Now was just such a case of being able to reach them best. But, even he knew there was only so much he could try to open their eyes to.

Sighing softly, Remus said, "You will have to take that matter up with Hermione herself, I'm afraid I have no say over it."

Again there was silence, rather uncomfortable too, as each listened to the sounds of the crackling fire and pounding rain. The flames seemed to flickering wildly as a sudden cold breeze blew through the room.

The winds carried such a chill that each person present shivered. An echo, or voice carried on this unexplainable breeze reached their ears. No words were discernable, just a voice calling out.

Hastily, the Headmaster stood. Causing alarm to rise in the everyone except Remus, who seemed to react in the same manner as Dumbledore.

Remus looked at his former teacher. "Are they here Albus?"

"I believe so, which means Moody will be here any second," he answered.

The two men swept for the office door, giving no explanation for their sudden exchange or current actions. Harry and Ron stood to follow, earning a ceasing hand from a rather concerned Lupin.

"Like hell we're not coming!" Ron stated as he continued to walk after them, Harry right beside him.

Ginny stood up as well, turning her mother. "Mum, I'm really sorry we left so suddenly. We should have known to tell you first. Dad will be worried if no one is home. You look tired, I think you should get some rest."

Momentarily stunned by her daughter's sudden mature and confident air, Mrs. Weasley just stared. It was true she was tired, and had been since the war started, but tonight seemed to be one of those nights where it really got to her.

"I'm sure everything is fine, professor Lupin and Dumbledore are with us and I'll be home shortly, so why don't you go on ahead?" she urged, seeing the bags under her mother's eyes and feeling guilty that her actions had added to the stress she must have been under.

Smiling, as any proud mother would, Mrs. Weasley stood and hugged her only daughter tightly before agreeing to follow her advice.

Once her mother had left, Ginny made to follow the other four who had left hastily without another word after Ron's insisting. She honestly didn't know which way they had gone, but the air seemed to become slightly colder in the direction that lead down toward the Great Hall and front entrance. So, she headed in this direction.

The silence was eerie, as each footstep resounded down the empty halls. There were no classes in session or other people nearby. The lights were gone, and she was left with darkened halls, which only reflected sleet grey light from the sky outside.

Never before had she felt anything but totally safe and comfortable within the walls of the castle. Ginny was afraid that something unimaginable had happened. For the life of her, she couldn't even guess what that breeze or voice was, nor why Lupin and Dumbledore had reacted as they had.

Rounding the final corner to view the long stretch of the enormous corridor that served as the main atrium, one of the great doors was open, which must have caused the chill. It was then that Ginny saw the group she had been hoping to catch up to.

Remus was physically restraining Harry and Ron, which only he could manage with the added strength of being a werewolf. Upon seeing this, Ginny propelled herself across the marbled flooring, sprinting the thirty feet between herself the others.

Once Remus caught sight of her wild red hair, he seemed a little put out that he might have to restrain her as well, obviously not able to actually manage all three of them. Luckily, Ginny didn't seem to have a gleam of insanity in her eyes as she saw the deathly looking heap of Hermione and Draco.

Oddly, the youngest Weasley flew right past the entire scene, not slowing down, but if anything picking up speed. "Pomfrey," was the only word she shouted as she continued to bolt passed them.

Had the circumstances been different, Dumbledore, Remus, and Moody would have all paused to admire the young girl's reaction.

"Remus!" Harry shouted, "Let us go! We want to see Hermione!"

"Only if you don't touch her, she's injured, you might make it worse," he breathed heavily under the strain of forcing back two teenaged wizards whose statures rivaled that of professional Quidditch players.

"Fine!" Ron agreed, now struggling because he was a little sore that his middle-aged professor was able to restrain all his efforts with the use of a single arm.

Ron and Harry joined Dumbledore and Moody, standing before the spectacle of entwined bodies. Seeing this caused both Harry and Ron to blanche visibly. Malfoy had his paws all over her, holding her close. The worst part was, that underneath her wet mop of curls and mud-smeared cheeks her expression was serene and almost content looking.

Moody looked elated at the sight of them, while Dumbledore looked most grieved. These two opposite reactions prompted Remus to question them. "Alastor, what are you so giddy about?"

"I don't do giddy Moony!" the peg legged Auror growled. "But, if you must know, I'm pleased at the time in which they were able to complete their mission. Truly remarkable."

"Albus," Remus started on the other man. "Care to explain your reaction?"

Stirring from his reverie Dumbledore looked at Moody to confirm something. "You say the ministry was in an uproar about the fluctuating pressures?"

"Yes. It's been going on all evening. On a scale never before seen. Albus, I daresay it was impossible to have readings as high as that."

"Remus, my concern lies in knowing that whatever the Ministry detected, Voldemort did as well. Severus already explained the new focus of the Dark Lord's obsession, now I fear he will stop at nothing."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, wondering what could possibly be worse than an injured Hermione before them.

"We'll continue this in the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore answered as Madame Pomfrey came huffing in tow of an impatient Ginny.

* * *

It was the second hour in which Ron, Ginny, and Harry sat quietly watching over their friend.

The boys' anger had abated slightly over the fact that Madame Pomfrey had so easily seen fit to place Hermione and Malfoy in the same bed. As it was, not even Remus could pry Draco's arms away from Hermione, and they were afraid that if they tampered too much Hermione might unwillingly use her powers to repel them.

So the pair lay, much the same as inside the main entrance, huddled close with the ferret's slimy hands holding onto her.

It had been explained that although their injuries were easily mended, they were sufficiently drained and needed as much rest as it took.

Harry thought back to the last of his conversation with Dumbledore.

* * *

"Harry, I'm sure you remember how Hermione spent much of her time sleeping before," the older wizard said, casting a still concerned glance over his half moon spectacles.

"Yeah, and how she woke up as another person," the dark haired boy added, his green eyes dancing with impatience. "Sir, I don't want to pry, but I feel I have a right to know. Why were you so concerned earlier, and now? If Hermione is going to be fine, then what is so troubling?"

Sighing, the Headmaster nodded. "I suppose you do have a right to know. Though, I should impress that your actions tonight did nothing to speak of your maturity."

Again he was left wondering whether Harry would ever be able to collect himself enough to be ready to face Voldemort. "When Hermione first released her abilities, the Ministry was able to detect it easily. You know all about their general gauging of fluctuations in the pressure that magic has on the atmosphere."

The white bearded man paused to make certain Harry did know what he spoke of. "Well, that night of the attack, the pressure was so immense that it topped the scales. Voldemort was most certainly just as aware of the large amount of raw magic involved. He became rather keen on getting Hermione's power."

He paused once more to study Harry's reaction. The boy's face looked worried, as did the two Weasley's. "We have of course taken every measure to ensure this does not happen, and I might say that Hermione's training as an Auror can only keep her safe in this respect."

Dumbledore stroked his beard, now speaking to the three of them as much as he was thinking to himself. "Earlier this evening, in what we can only assume was an end to their assignment, the pressure sparked new heights yet again. Although not quite as high as before, it lasted for some time. That initial release a couple months ago lasted for only a short few minutes. Today however it went on and off for a good couple hours."

"So, what your saying is, Hermione used a whole lot of magic?" Ron asked.

Shaking his head, the Headmaster corrected, "Not just Hermione Mr. Weasley, which is another startling fact. Hermione's raw power as an Angelus is a probable cause for such bursts of pressure, but Mr. Malfoy here seems to have been rivaling her just as much. The fact that Draco was able to do this is and the fact that the two of them were able to use such energies for a prolonged period of time is most disturbing," he concluded.

"Why?" Ginny asked.

"Because, Miss Weasley, it is by all means an impossibility." He remained at a loss for an explanation even after much thinking and theorizing. "And now I fear, Voldemort will stop at nothing to have her."

* * *

Dumbledore's last words left an empty and cold feeling inside of Harry. Voldemort was out to get the golden angel of their trio. It was times like these that he felt it necessary to sit back and clear his mind, lest he do something dangerously rash.

He'd never let that insane murderer get Hermione, not in a million years.

The previous summer, he'd had the worst time trying to cope with the weight placed on his shoulders by the prophecy. Now however, his path couldn't be clearer. As if killing his parents wasn't enough, Riddle wanted Hermione now.

While the list of victims had grown, Harry hadn't dabbled too far into the idea that one day the next might be Ron or Hermione. He knew their lives were in danger, but never before had he been forced to imagine the scenario in his head.

The mere thought of the vile wretch even harboring thoughts about her made his blood boil. Riddle had no right to think about her, let alone touch her or attempt to use her. He'd stop the evil man at all costs, suddenly more accepting of the idea that he'd have to become a murderer himself to do so.

Whatever it took, he'd do it.

Well into the night, after Ron and Ginny had retired to nearby beds, Harry sat awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled his chair up close and had fallen into a mindless habit of playing with Hermione's hair. Stroking the soft curls, twirling it through his rough fingers, watching and waiting. This time, he would be the first one she saw when she woke up. The last time this had happened and he hadn't been there, a whole mess of trouble followed.

As if sensing the brooding dark haired boy's penetrating gaze, Hermione began to stir.

>>


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

**The First Gathering**

Still playing with her hair, Harry watched as Hermione began to show signs of waking up. But, these signs ended after she moaned softly huddled in closer to Malfoy, who in turn did the same thing.

Letting her hair drop softly back onto the pillow, Harry stood and walked over to the window, suddenly filled with so much rage he could hardly contain it.

'When did things become so twisted?' he thought, leaning his forehead against the cool glass and listening to the rain as it continued to fall outside in the black night. 'Will she still be Hermione when she wakes up?' These doubts made way for a prickling fear that seemed to grow each moment he was left wondering.

Before, when Dumbledore had restored her memory, she was the same old Hermione. But, that was the beginning of the summer. From Ginny's letters it would seem Malfoy had rooted his place in their girl's life so firmly she now trusted him 'implicitly', as Moony put it. Surely this Slytherin didn't mean more to her than he or Ron did. Was it possible? His heart clenched at the thought that he might not be the most important guy in her life.

'Poor Ron.' Harry knew how much harder this must be for him. While it was never openly declared or even recognized, he knew Ron had held a slightly more than friendly affection for their favorite Gryffindor princess. Not to mention, he loathed Malfoy with a fiery passion that could melt sandstone. These two factors put together must have meant that seeing Hermione and Draco as they were wrenched him apart.

If it was anything as Harry felt right now, then he was truly sorry for the stubborn red head.

Gulping audibly, his throat felt a bit constricted as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Fear and anxiety battled to dominate over his anguish and loneliness.

He needed to know that it was still their Hermione lying there, that she hadn't in fact died the night of the attack.

Regret and guilt joined the running as he reviewed how he had spent his summer. Yes, he had been busy with his own agenda and lessons, but that was no excuse for not seeing Hermione or writing to her.

'She just lost her parents!' he chided himself, 'you're probably the one person who could relate to her and console her. But, no! You let this damn war consume you, leaving her to cope with everything by herself.'

How could he even consider himself to be her friend? How could he even have thought of resenting her for what she'd been doing?

'Merlin, please! I know I've done nothing for her, but please let it be our Hermione when she wakes up.' He didn't think he could stand it if he lost her, he in turn would be lost as well.

Before, at the beginning of summer, when he'd been in an almost identical position, Dumbledore had assured him she would be fine when she opened her eyes. The Headmaster had been wrong and for an everlasting stretch of hours Ron and he thought Hermione was gone. Now he couldn't help but believe things would turn out the same.

The chilled pane had numbed his forehead. Past his reflection he stared into the night sky, clouded and blackish grey. More thoughts snagged his mind and churned his feelings about. Between his new resolution to become a murderer and the stress Dumbledore expressed over gaining more control and the attack on Hermione which wounded his heart and the news of Hermione's most recent expedition with danger and finally the realization that he was but a hair close to losing one of his best friends whom he had surly hurt by careless actions.

His shoulders sagged with the weight of the world. As he sighed, momentarily fogging the window, a single tear rolled down his cheek. When the time came he would be strong, he would kill Voldemort, he would salvage what was lost, he would do whatever anyone asked of him. But, for now, he would wait and simply try to suppress his need to breakdown and give in to his fears. Another tear followed.

'Please just wake up and make everything better again. Wake up, wake up, wake up…' he chanted over and over in his mind.

"Harry?" came a soft sweet voice no louder than a whisper from behind him.

His eyes widened at the sound of his name being called. When he felt a warm gentle hand on his back his breath hitched. Closing his eyes he thought, 'Now I'm imagining things'.

Slowly he turned around, disbelief rooted into every fiber of his being.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

'What's wrong, she asks!' his mind scoffed, 'obviously everything is wrong!' He gulped again, not letting himself believe, for fear it really wasn't true and he'd wake up any second now feeling even more hurt. So, he stared down at her small frame. 'Was she always so delicate and fragile? Or is it because its all in my head?' he wondered.

He reached a hand out to cup her soft, pale cheek. Trailing a thumb across her cheek bone, he tucked a few tresses behind her ear. His face mirrored nothing but utter anguish.

"Wake up Hermione, please wake up…" he whispered softly.

Her eyes widened in the sudden realization that Harry was far from realization she was standing before him. There were tears in his eyes, those emerald eyes that didn't even see her as she stood right before them.

"Harry" she called again, grasping the wrist of the hand that cupped her cheek, "It's me, I'm right here, I'm awake."

His brows scrunched up and his eyes narrowed as if he were in actual physical pain from her words.

Again she searched for the right thing to say, but found nothing. He thought she was some sort of illusion…or dream.

An idea came to her.

"Ow!" Harry yelped, as Hermione bit his thumb.

Suddenly the veil that had been cast over him was lifted and she smiled brightly up at her friend, then twitching her nose in a mischievous candor she jibed, "Now you know you're awake"

There was a lengthy pause as Harry's eyes seemed to finally realize it was truly Hermione standing before him. As she waited and let his green eyes search her own honey ones, she grew impatient. She hadn't seen Harry all summer, and now she wakes up back at the Hospital Wing, elated at her victory, only to find her best friends present.

A smile ghosted his face for a brief moment before it fell, then it came again, as if he wasn't sure he should be feeling so happy.

He faltered an attempt to hug her, drawing back at the last second, still too afraid to take the plunge.

Hermione however, was not going to wait, as she jumped forth and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her feet dangled off the ground, but there was hardly any burden for him to bear as she clung to him.

Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, before wrapping his arms around her and swinging her about.

His wishes had been answered, she was here, his Hermione. She was fine, she was happy, she was healthy, she was more beautiful than ever, she was still their perfect clever girl.

As he spun her around, he laughed. All his burdens seemed to lift themselves off his shoulders, his heart and chest didn't clench in pain. Everything felt right again, just as it should be.

"Gods I missed you." he rasped hoarsely before settling down and frantically kissing her forehead and moving to place several more chaste kisses to her hair.

This was scene to which Draco Malfoy awoke.

Something had been amiss, as he felt cold and no longer capable of sleeping soundly. Draco reached out blindly several times, touching nothing but air and an empty bedside.

Still feeling weary and tired, he pried open his eyes to search for whatever it was his body was trying to find. As it was mind and body were not on the same page. His mind wanted sleep and told him to just shut his eyes and draw the blankets up if he was cold. His body, however, demanded to feel restless and cold until he found what was missing.

Jealous rage consumed him immediately as his mind snapped to attention, calling upon a now unwilling body to move. Draco staggered out of bed, ignoring the pain that shot through him when doing so.

Scar-head was groping and kissing his partner. 'UNACCEPTABLE!' his inner voice shouted.

Harry had barely noticed Draco's presence until he was upon them, tearing Hermione away from him and pulling her back.

While Hermione hadn't even registered what happened, only that she was jerked away and now pressed against something warm and hard. Her head was held to Draco's chest, as he clung possessively to her. "Hands off Potter!" he spat.

Harry stared in confused anger, 'Did Malfoy really just do that?' he wondered. 'Surely not, unless he has a death wish'

Hermione had managed to turn her head slightly and see Harry behind her, the fact that she now saw his eyes lighten in color sent a chill down her spine in warning. "Malfoy, calm down!" she pleaded. "Its ok, its Harry." she soothed.

"Yes, it was Potter, so what?" he asked angrily.

"So, he's my best friend and just found out I'm alright." she shot back.

Part of Harry was relieved that she hadn't started snogging him or anything, but instead seemed to bicker as before. Then he noticed her sigh and breath in contently, not caring to refute his hold with anything but words.

They were close, just as Dumbledore had told him. So close, that they seemed to fit together like two puzzle pieces. Doubts and fears started to creep up on him again. Had things changed? Was Hermione closer to Malfoy than her two best friends? Who was first in her heart?

Draco noticed the visible changes that intoned the emotional state of the-boy-who-lived. From his fury over having Hermione torn from his arms, to fleeting anger, to fear, to sadness. This guy had more emotion in one finger than most people did in their whole bodies.

Then it struck him; Potter was lost without her. Merlin help him if he wasn't able to understand where the bloody Gryffindor was coming from on this one. And of course with understanding came guilt and sympathy.

Narrowing his eyes he glared fiercely at Potter, who looked back through a haze of confusion. Making sure his grounds were clearly marked Draco squeeze Hermione tightly, visibly strengthening his hold before kissing her head just as boy wonder had done. Then just as soon as he made sure it was clear that Hermione was for him, he let her go and started walking back past their bed, toward the wing's doors.

"I'll be in our room Granger. I'm tired, so hurry it up and come back." he said, before leaving the room all together. He wished he could stay, but if he was made to bear witness to any more of their golden affection he'd tear the wizarding world's only hope limb from limb.

Harry stared at a complete loss, 'Did Malfoy just do that?' he was left wondering yet again. For one thing, it had seemed like the ferret cared about Hermione. And, for another he distinctly saw sympathy cross those silver eyes. That was just not possible, he'd never seen any flicker of emotion expressed in those eyes, with the occasional exception of when they'd managed to piss him off enough to see anger. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say Malfoy had just back down because the blonde saw how it had made him feel to have Hermione taken away.

But, Harry did know better. Malfoy didn't care about Hermione or any of them. The Slytherin might not be on Voldemort's side, but that didn't mean he was good.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, surprised the snoring boy hadn't woken from all the racket.

"I didn't do it." the red head stated groggily as he sat up.

Ginny seemed to be a heavy sleeper as well, as she slowly came to.

Both Weasleys jumped to attention though, when they heard the familiar jubilant laugh of Hermione.

Presently, Hermione found herself smothered in hugs.

"What happened?" Ginny asked

"Well…" Hermione looked at them all earnestly, "I'll tell you everything, but first we should go to my rooms."

"Why?" asked Harry suspiciously, being the only one who'd seen the way Malfoy had acted and heard what he said.

"Well…" she began again, trying to say it just right, "My body feels like lead, I really need to be asleep, and if Malfoy feels half of what I do, which I know he does since he was in worse shape than me, then I should return soon."

"Why would it matter where you sleep?" Ron asked honestly not seeing any problem. "I mean, I'm all for checking out what kind of place the Head Girl gets to stay in, but a bed is a bed." he concluded.

Ginny just laughed, knowing what Hermione was getting at. From the other letters Hermione had written, which she had wisely not read to the boys, she knew just what sort of relationship was brewing between the vaguely declared reformed sex god of Slytherin and the naïve and gorgeous Gryffindor bookworm. While knowing didn't mean approving, she felt it amusing to hear her brother at a complete loss.

Harry however, seemed to catch on to the situation pretty fast. "So, you and Malfoy are seeing each other!" he accused, as if it would have been the greatest treachery possible.

Looking incredulously back at Harry, Hermione answered honestly, "No." she knew how he might have perceived things, and while it was understandable for him to have made certain assumptions, their relationship was complicated and twisted and not what Harry had in mind. "Its complicated Harry."

"So uncomplicated it Hermione." Ron said, dawning understanding coming over him upon hearing Harry's train of thought.

"We're partners, we've been through a lot together. He's helped me a lot. I don't expect you to understand, but I swear we're not going out. Its not like that." In her head, she couldn't help but tag on the word 'exactly' to the end of her sentence. "Look" she tried from a different angle, "We have to spend a lot of time together, so its natural that things become a habit."

"Yeah a bad habit!" Ron spat.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea…" in truth she was really tired. She knew her body wasn't meant to have woken up so soon, but it had for some unknown reason. Now, she could feel the effects more clearly as her excitement over seeing her friends, subsided. While she wanted to stay with her friends, her body needed to recuperate, which meant sound sleep, and she couldn't do that unless she was with Draco. Obviously it was the same for him, as he had said so, if not in those exact words, before he left.

"No, its fine." Ginny piped in, afraid that they were invariably pushing Hermione away by making her choose in such a distressed state. "I understand what you mean."

Ginny's attempt to set Hermione at ease received a wry smile. Nodding, Hermione turned and lead the way.

Upon entering the Heads' common room her three friends took their time staring at everything in wonder. Hermione's eyes immediately fell to Draco who was sprawled back on the couch. Slouched down so far his long legs blocked the small area around the hearth, he had one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other against the armrest. His position was so unguarded she could only be grateful that he remained this way around her presently uptight friends.

It would be these small gestures that allowed her friends to at least become tolerable of Malfoy. He hadn't retreated to his bedroom, letting them simply ignore his new found presence in their lives. Nor had he sat brooding in a walled and unapproachable manner.

While he appeared to be sleeping, Hermione knew he was wide awake. She said nothing however, just sat down right beside him. If his arm slung over the couch happened to slip slightly, and hang precariously close to her shoulders, then it was entirely coincidental.

Ron and Ginny took the two arm chairs closer the fire while Harry sat on the other side of Hermione. No one mentioned anything about Malfoy, though they eyed him curiously.

Before Ron could poke the exhausted Auror in the arm, which was what Hermione had a sneaking suspicion he was considering doing, she spoke up.

"Do you want to hear about the assignment, err, well, I guess you call it 'The Retrieval'?" she asked.

Ginny was again the ambassador of good will, and went along as if Malfoy was a usual member to their intimate fireside chats. "We don't call it that, but yeah I'd like to know what happened?"

Once she saw the worried faces of Harry and Ron she sighed, "If either of you had done it I bet you'd be retelling it as some fantastic adventure!" she snapped.

"Hermione," Ron began, "You were in danger and we were worried. There isn't anything fantastic about it."

A light sparked within her as she remembered how thrilling it had been and frightening and all together a great adventure. "Oh, but there was!" she looked for some sort of understanding. If anyone could comprehend the lure of danger and joy of mischief and victory then it would surely be her two best friends. "Harry, Ron, if you had been there, you would be talking as though it were another Quidditch match. Patting each other on the back for a job well done and boasting about all the complicated moves you'd done." she looked to Harry now, and then back to Ron. "Please, don't ruin it, I won't lie or hide my feelings about it… if I tell you then let me be honest and happy about our job well done." her voice was pleading, leaving no room for argument.

For the next hour, she told them everything that had happened from the moment they stepped off the plane and arrived in Italy. She did of course leave out a few minor details, like the picture. Ginny seemed to find her tale of Bain most amusing.

Some where along the line Draco had given up feigning sleep and sat only slightly straighter and head raised as he watched silently and listened to her voice as if it was a lullaby.

"But before we could leave, his friends showed up. I didn't even have time to register what they looked like."

"How many?" Ginny asked wide eyed.

"Four others, but they weren't as matched as Blain."

"Were they vampires too?" Harry questioned, most curious about her description of the vampire Blain. After all, Harry having been raised in a muggle world had many different conceptions on what a vampire was like.

"Yeah." she answered, smiling at the lightened atmosphere. True Gryffindor's could scarce deny the joys of a good adventurous tale, especially when it was true.

"Dirty fighters. You would have been outmatched with just one vampire, and you had to face five. How'd you escape?" Ron was now on the edge of his seat, not caring that it had been Hermione in that clearing surrounded by five vampires, since she had obviously lived.

"We didn't at first. Draco seemed to think it was great fun at the time and I thought it was a good chance to gauge my own status in battle. You know, I hadn't really used any of my training in a real situation."

Now all three of her friends stared at her with their mouths agape. Hermione? Know-it-all, bookworm, rule abiding, future McGonagall, Hermione, had taken on vampires in the hopes of testing whether or not she could last more than few seconds? Between pride and astonishment, they stared.

Finally, Ron scratched his head and gave her a playful smile, "So, how'd you do?"

Smiling in return she said, "We held our own for a little while, but over all… lets just say that if we had stayed much longer we would have had our arses handed to us."

Ginny giggled, always enjoying the rare occasions when Hermione swore.

"You said Blain was better?" Harry inquired, always one fore remembering details.

"Yeah, after the start, I dealt with him, I spent most the time just dodging him." she admitted.

"Well if you were fighting the strongest one, what the hell was Malfoy doing?" leave it to Ron to twist things and make it a ridiculing time of Malfoy.

Heatedly, Hermione jumped to his defense, "He was busy with the other four vampires who had left me alone and focused on him." she pause a moment before dragging Draco into the conversation for the first time, "Isn't that right?" she asked raising a hand and whacking on his chest, to get his attention.

Grunting in pain, he coughed and said as composed as possible, "Yeah." He rubbed the rib she had hit, "I might remind you that because of it I suffered more injuries than you."

Harry had to smile when his girl didn't apologize like she would have to one of them, but instead didn't seem to care at all, but instead made a point, "Its your own fault. I wanted to leave as soon as the students were back. But no… you just had to get even with the loon for think you were a wo-" the rest of her words and followed complaints were muffled by the hand Draco now had clamped over her mouth.

"I think Granger's feeling rather tired now, as I'm sure you lot are as well." Draco gave them a false smile while he restrained Hermione still. "Time for bed I think."

Reluctantly and hesitantly, Harry and Ron left the dormitory at the insistence of Malfoy and Ginny. Before she disappeared behind the cove and through the door, Ginny gave Hermione a wink and kind smile. While she didn't like or trust Malfoy, Hermione had a better judge in character than most, and she would always support her friend no matter what road she walked down.

Hermione smiled back, holding Malfoy's hand away from her mouth, showing her appreciation and acknowledging that she understood just what Ginny was thinking.

The second she heard the last stone slide into place after her friend's departure, Hermione burst out laughing. The expression on Malfoy's face had been priceless.

"Think you're funny do you Granger?" He asked with the quirk of a brow and a roguish grin.

"That was great." she answered, finally controlling her laughter.

"There was nothing funny about that insane blood sucker's lunacy and delusions over male and female." he snapped.

"Well, I'd have to say he wasn't delusional. I think you caught his fancy, with your pretty little face and feminine wiles." she teased.

"Oh?" he commented, his voice carried a tone that made Hermione's eyes widen.

"No" she stated.

His grin changed from roguish to playful.

"No, Malfoy, stay back." she warned.

He made to sit up, while she made to jump away. She wasn't quick enough however and found herself trapped and pinned under him. After that she was subjected to a torturous attack of tickling. She writhed and squirmed and kicked and squeaked in laughter and giggling. Leave it to Malfoy to know exactly where she was most ticklish and use it against her for a full out assault.

The gay mood came to a screeching halt however as he suddenly stopped, hovering on top of her. His face was close, to hers. For a few moments they just stared at each other.

There she was pliant beneath him, soft and warm. Her golden brown hair in wild tangles against the cushion underneath her head, his hand was within them, feeling the silky strands against his calloused fingers. Her bright honey eyes stared up in joy and laughter and a kindness of which he'd never known before. He couldn't stand it any longer as her plush red lips pouted in slight defiance over his lingering on top of her.

"Hermione" he said.

Hermione could feel every hard and tough muscle of Draco's built body against her. His wild blonde hair was mussed and his grey eyes bore into her own as if he could see straight through to her soul.

"What?" she answered, almost in a whisper.

"I want to kiss you." he stated flatly, licking his lips in ardent desire.

She could see a flicker of want within those grey pools gazing down at her. "I thought we agreed, we don't have time for things like that."

"But, I want to kiss you, right now." he repeated steadily and evenly in a voice that had become slightly more husky in tone.

Her own breath hitched, terrified that if they started they wouldn't stop. And then where would they be? They had more important things to focus on right now. 'But he's not asking for a relationship, just a kiss, a single kiss.' her mind reasoned.

"If I know you Malfoy, you always get what you want."

Growling, Draco closed the distance between their mouths in an instant. Her lips were so soft and warm and sweet. His hand that lay entangled in her hair moved to cup her cheek, while his other arm lowered and slip beneath her to cradle her lower back.

'More' he demanded, as she seemed willing to let him deepen it. He ran his tongue against her bottom lip, seeking entrance. The moan that escaped her gave him his opportunity.

Arching her back up against Draco's body, she allowed him to tighten his grip and hold her in place. It seemed as though that wonderful smell she had come to be so used to that she didn't even notice it anymore, only when it was gone, overpowered her senses. She loved the way he smelled, it was intoxicating and it set fire to her.

As Draco moved his knee up, wedging between her legs, he began to trail kisses over her face, tender at first, but when he reached her neck he became more fierce and wanting. Her hands were running through his hair and over his shoulders. Now she writhed with a much different pleasure beneath him as he suckled her collar bone.

Draco had underestimated her ability to give as much as she received however, as she pulled him back to her mouth, kissing him deeply and then moving on to his jaw and nibbling on his ear lobe.

He let out a groan. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they explored every inch of her, running up and down her sides, feeling the curve of her amble breasts, before groping them. Doing so caused her to buck her hips ever so slightly, but just enough to make him groan in pleasure. The extent of what she made him feel was now pressing against her stomach.

"Draco" she murmured in his ear before moaning once again.

If the noises she made wasn't enough to make him cum right on the spot, the picture she made certainly would have been. If he went any farther, he wouldn't stop, not for anything. This fact caused him to pull back abruptly. He stared down at a sufficiently flustered Hermione. Her eyes were heavy and her lips were swollen and crimson, her shirt was pushed up, revealing a bit of the bra she wore beneath. He took care to notice how he had placed himself between her legs. Another minute of this and he'd take her right then. He couldn't however, not like that, not so sudden. She was too innocent, too pure.

It was over shortly after it began. Draco had pulled back suddenly, stared down at her longingly and hoisted himself off of her, "I'm going to bed." he stated, standing up, before stalking up to his room.

Hermione was too stunned to know what to think. One moment she was losing her senses in a heavy snogging session with Draco Malfoy and the next he leaves her hanging. She lay on the couch a few minutes, cooling down and composing her thoughts.

She supposed she should feel more hurt, but somehow the fact that Draco seemed to have become pliant putty at the mere touch of her lips assured her that he wasn't leaving because he wanted to. Besides, he'd only asked for a kiss, and that's all he'd gotten.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

**Safety Net**

Thud, thud, thud. Groan. Thud, thud, thud.

Draco stood knocking his head against his closed door. It was actually really starting to hurt, but that was to be expected since he was doing it repeatedly and rather hard.

"What the bloody hell was that?" he said aloud to the empty room.

This was lunacy at its foremost. He was the sex god of Slytherin, had he wanted to he could have seduced Granger the first day he saw her laying in that hospital wing bed. But he hadn't.

If there were voices of good and evil, or in Draco's case bad and worse, acting as his guides their voices argued back and forth at this point. The argument volleyed as he paced his bedroom floor, oblivious to the pain and fatigue of his body.

'I didn't do anything'

'But, not doing anything and not wanting to do something are two completely different things.'

'I wanted to' he admitted. He still _wanted _to.

'Want to what? Seduce her?'

'No!…not exactly…'

'You intended to, not a day after your first day of training, you were plotting.'

'So, what? That meant nothing! I didn't know before…'

'Know what?'

'That I… I… don't know!'

'That, you would actually care?'

'No! I don't care! She's my partner, its my job to make sure she doesn't up and die on me, that's all I care for the chit.'

'Then why do you pine for her?'

'Pine? Malfoy's don't pine!'

'In what way are you still a Malfoy?'

"Dammit!" he shouted, hurling the nearest object across the room where it clattered against the wall harshly. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he get her face out of his head? Yes, they were both working together, but that was it. Anything more was too dangerous. If he became too attached, it would only be a liability.

This wasn't going to work. He needed to keep his focus, which was winning the war. Why had he done that, why had he kissed her?

Clenching his fists he continued pacing in a fit of rage, knocking something over every now and then.

His mind just couldn't fathom how he could have possibly done something so stupid and against his brain's orders. What was worse still was that even now, as he became angry at the very notion of being with her, part of him felt like there was no place he'd rather be than beside her right now.

Where had all his iron handed self control gone? He used to be able to control even his inward silent thoughts, now he found himself losing all restraint on his own actions.

After many rounds about the room he had managed to calm down. His conclusions were that one kiss meant nothing, as they had both agreed their focuses were Moody's training, their final year, and the war. Hermione was just as rational as he was, surely she too would see how it meant nothing… or would lead to nothing at any rate. He had also surmised that his loss of control had been due to an over flow of suppressed sexual tension.

That was it, sexual tension. From day one, when he looked at Granger sleeping, something had stirred within him, she was truly an eye pleasing sight. Then, with him having his old habits of using seductive power as a means for control, of course she would have been crossing his mind in such a manner. Now with their denial and suppressing solution to the whole debacle, of course it would build.

But that was it, he had washed his hands of it and they need not speak about it again.

'Hermione!' someone called.

"Eh?" Hermione's eyes opened as she scanned the room for the source of the call.

The fire had died down to crackling embers, and the room was dimly lit, but it felt comfortable cast in a soft glow and heatedly nicely. For the past couple hours she had been dozing on and off, not able to actually fall into a sound sleep. It seemed odd and dangerous that her dependence upon another person, Malfoy no less, had become so great she couldn't even sleep well without them.

There was no one she could see. With herself occupying the couch and the armchairs empty, there weren't many places a person could hide, not to mention only Draco and she knew the way to get into the common room.

She must have been hearing things, perhaps a snapping log had jogged her awake and she attributed it to being called.

'HERMIONE!' the voice yelled, causing a startled Hermione to flop off the couch and land in a thud on the carpet.

There was something about hearing someone yell inside her head that she just couldn't get used to or prepare herself for. Now as she stood, rubbing her bum, for it had broken much of her landing, she stuttered between answering in her mind or calling out as though she were speaking to someone she could actually see.

"Err… yeah?" she asked hesitantly.

'You forget our deal.' the voice pouted.

"Uh, right. Tonight, isn't the best time though." it was true, after the way Draco had left, she doubted he wanted 'the kitten' clinging to him.

'Humph!'

As she rubbed her eyes in frustration, she waited a few moments to be certain the kitten was finished. No further reply came, and she assumed this meant she would wait a little longer, though not happily. Now sighing Hermione mumbled, "Talking to myself, literally, I'm losing my mind."

With that, she flopped back onto the couch and curled up to welcome slumber.

The incessant knocking which had been going on for the past five minutes, drove Hermione to angrily, but rather groggily, stomp to the door way and answer whoever was calling on her or Draco.

"Finally!" Ron greeted, when she revealed the door concealed by stone.

"We've been out there forever." Harry said as he passed by, followed by Ron, and Ginny.

"Come on in." she mumbled under her breath sarcastically.

As she waved the stones to resume their place, with her wand, Ron called out from the far end of the common room, "This the kitchen?"

Before she could even answer, she heard the door open and close. She rolled her eyes, wondering if her friend would ever change and have something other than food on his mind.

Harry was leaning against the couch staring intently at her in what she assumed to be some assessment.

"You okay?" he asked, concern crossing his green eyes.

Ginny quipped in, "He's been worrying about you non stop since we left last night. I don't think he slept a wink."

Giving Ginny an understanding look, Hermione walked up to Harry and mussed his raven brown hair up even more, "I'm fine. Didn't sleep too well is all."

Shaking his hair out, Harry looped his arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. "What's say the three of us hang out today?"

"Three?" asked Ginny with a hand on her hip.

"Four, four. Sorry." he corrected.

'Why not the five of us?' Hermione pleaded silently.

Urging her answer Harry squeezed tighter and kissed her hair, "Come on. I think Ron has something up his sleeve for us all, he seems really excited."

It was odd for Harry, or either of the boys, to be the one giving the hugs and kisses. For the most part, she was the one hugging goodbye or hello, so in his surprise display of friendship she was compelled to agree. "Of course, it sounds great."

Ron came back from the kitchen, holding a sandwich bigger than his mouth could possibly take a bite from. That didn't stop him though. Thankfully he waited to speak between chewing, as Hermione had spent the past six years chastising him into doing so. "We can play some Quidditch. It'll be great, now that you can fly too!"

Cringing, Hermione said, "Flying? Isn't there something else you'd like to do? Perhaps go to Hogsmeade and shop or we could have a picnic. It's still really wet, but its sunny now and we could charm a blanket to be water proof." she smiled hopefully.

Waving her suggestions off, Ron stated, "This'll be great. I was just telling Harry last night how I might be able to get used to the idea of you being an Auror if you can fly like before."

"Oh sure, and my input had nothing to do with it!" Ginny's other hand came to her hip, giving the full intimidation of the Molly Weasley hands on hip tactic.

"You should have been there" Harry said with a chuckle to Hermione, "Ginny wouldn't let Ron go to sleep until he conceded that you could train with Moody if you wanted to and that it would mean we could all play Quidditch together."

While Hermione was most grateful for Ginny's understanding and intervention, this was a particular point she did not want made. Ron and Harry would both have to come around to accept her choices eventually… maybe not accept Draco, but they'd never turn their backs on her. And while the sooner they accepted things the better, she did not under any circumstances want to go flying with anyone. She was still terribly afraid of flying. When she was out with Draco, it wasn't a problem, in fact she was certain she'd enjoyed it many times, and the fact that she happened to be more than just _really _good helped get her on that broom.

But, alone, she could not make herself ascend to such heights on the piece of wood. Yes, it was the oddest thing, she was more than willing to go up on a tower, climb a tall tree, even jump from high places, but not on a broom. She didn't feel safe on a broom, and most especially when she had just had a row with 'the kitten' who might potentially be the only thing keeping her from a violent reunion with the ground after falling off the stick-with-twigs-at-one-end.

When she flew with Malfoy it was different. She knew that no matter how far apart they were, if she fell, he would find some way to catch her. He'd done it at least twenty times before when Moody had gotten her unseated with a well aimed spell.

"I'm not really the flying type…" she began but was interrupted by an adamant red head eating a sandwich.

"Nonsense. Everyone is the flying type! Come on!" he said finishing off his food, "I've got everything planned. It'll be just like old times."

'Old times?' she wondered, 'Since when have there been new times?'

Each of her friends seemed to beam at her, proud that they were being mature and accepting everything on her behalf. How could she refuse them? She couldn't, simple as that. "Alright, let me get ready." she feigned a happy smile and excitement before rushing off to shower and dress.

She had told them to make themselves some breakfast and relax while they waited. Now, she stepped from the shower, steam billowing behind her. The hot water did much to sooth aches and pains, but somehow she knew it wasn't as good a cure as a long dreamless slumber.

Wiping condensation away on the mirror, she looked at herself. The glass misted over again, so she cast an altered repelling charm with the wave of her hand. The glass shattered violently, and several pieces fell forth, cutting her.

"Ah!" she exclaimed in surprise and annoyance. With a slight flinch she yanked a couple shards from her arm.

That had been unexpected. She used wandless magic before, why did it suddenly seem like she was an amateur who had no control?

'Oh well.' she thought using her wand to restore the mirror. Not wanting to bother with any more water vapor repelling charms, she dressed and dried her hair instead.

Meekly, half wishing that between the time it took her to grab a shower and don fresh clothes that her friends had suddenly changed their minds, she opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

The three friends sat around the cold fixture of a hearth, Harry and Ron were engaged in a game of Exploding Snaps, whilst Ginny flipped through a book she'd borrowed from the shelves on the other side of the room.

Being the first to take note of Hermione's return, Ginny tore her eyes from their half hearted reading and smiled at the wild haired brunette. Whistling, she called attention to their pretty, but entirely ignorant of the fact, friend, "Looking cute. Where'd you get those clothes?" she asked sincerely.

As coincidence would have it, Hermione just so happened to be wearing the single outfit Draco had rough handedly shoved in to her arms for purchasing. There was nothing too special about them; faded blue jeans which were boot cut and slightly baggy and a small black t shirt sporting a silver silhouette of a Chinese dragon across the breast. It hadn't been her intention to where these clothes for any reason other than practicality. The jeans gave leeway for movement while being of a thicker more protective material. The shirt was just a shirt, she wasn't swimming in it like when she wore Draco's or several other garments of her own which were larger than need be, since that had always been her style as the bookworm.

Hermione coughed, not comfortable with the idea of telling her friends all about her day of buying new clothing with a certain Slytherin. She supposed the fact that there was a silver dragon on her shirt might not aide in her impassive hopes for a truce, but she hadn't actually known what she was buying when she done so. Similarly, she hadn't thought about appearances when she grab the clothes to change into after her shower. She was still the same old Hermione, appearances were only skin deep, and not something for her to waste time on.

Answering Ginny, after clearing her throat, she began, "I, uh, bought it."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up in mild amusement, "Obviously-"

Before Ginny could finish her interrogation about some stupid set of clothes, Hermione jumped in, "We should get going. That is, unless you guys don't want to go the pitch still." the last bit almost sounded hopeful and she berated herself inside for it. They were her dearest friends, she had to make them happy. If that meant a couple hours of biting the bullet and levitating to extreme heights on a hunk of wood all the while shaking in fear, then she'd do it in a heart beat.

Of course flying was still their main agenda for today. This was actually something she should have seen coming. Her two best friends were crazy about Quidditch and had made complaints about her not understanding it or getting into as much as them. Now they find out she can fly extremely well, though not until a lot of practice with Moody and Malfoy as a safety net. It was to be expected that they would want to include her in their summer days of Quidditch at the Burrow.

Steeling herself for the fear she was about to confront, she jotted down a small note for Draco to let him know where she'd gone, and then followed them out the door and trailed behind as they made their way through the castle.

By the time they had reached the pitch Hermione had nearly convinced herself that she wouldn't be afraid anymore. After all, she'd flown many times before without incident, and that was with Moody purposefully trying to knock her down. This would be no different, it was all in her mind, and once she got up there she'd take a few deep breaths and feel comfortable.

This was not the case however, as she slowly mounted the broom Ron handed her from the Quidditch storeroom. Immediately her heart rate picked up and beat harshly within her chest. Her breath felt constricted and her gut clenched in fear.

Smiling, Hermione followed her friends upwards, though slowly. The higher she went made no difference, she wasn't afraid of heights. The fear she felt being five feet off the ground was just as great as when she was fifty or a hundred.

'Oh Merlin!' her mind cried as she lunged forward to catch the Quaffle Ginny had passed. She had been trying to focus all her effort into putting the broom in a vice grip, so as not to let go. Now however, in the spirit of playing the game she had to let go with at least one hand.

As their little game commenced she found herself using every shred of will power to remain composed and play along. They weren't even that far into it when she felt sweat beading and rolling down her temples. More than once she had to bite her lip to keep a fearful whimper in as she made a lunge to catch the ball.

Thankfully they used no Bludgers, since they didn't have nearly enough people. No snitch either. Just two on two. Harry and Ron versus Hermione and Ginny. She didn't know what the score was, and could not have cared less at the moment. Her breathing became labored and she was now concerned that she'd ruin their fun by starting to hyperventilate.

In the back of her mind she was vaguely aware that everyone seemed to have stopped playing. Glancing about she realized, thankfully, that it had nothing to do with her.

Down below standing in the middle of the pitch stood a fuming Draco. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had landed and appeared to be on the defensive. As Hermione drew closer she heard him shouting at them, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Draco had just woken up from a fitful sleep and made his way into the common room. After a hot shower, he noticed the absence of Hermione. He was certain she hadn't gone to her rooms last night, but probably remained on the couch. Scouring the area for a note of some kind, since it was highly unusual for either of them to go anywhere without the other, he found one on the study table.

_D,_

_Gone to the pitch, will be back by supper._

_H_

Obviously she didn't have much time to write out a formal explanation. He knew exactly what had happened though. Potter and Weasley had dragged her into flying for the day, and she was too much a push over to tell them she was afraid.

Crumpling the note, he mumbled, "Stubborn Gryffindors.", before racing out of the common room and heading to the pitch himself.

Upon reaching the large field he called out to Potter and Weasley. They stopped their game immediately and came to meet him in their own anger. Seeing Hermione on the far side doubled what anger he felt, when he noticed she looked to be trembling like a frightened child caught in a thunder storm.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled at them, positively livid.

Defiantly crossing his arms over his chest Ron straightened his back, stressing the precious inches he had on Malfoy in height. "Playing some Quidditch, we'd let you join, but you know how it is, no gits allowed."

At this point, Hermione landed, shakily standing on legs that felt like jell-o. The ensuing confrontation was at the back of her mind right now, as she strived to remain calm and return herself to normal. It was difficult though when your heart wouldn't settle down even though you hadn't moved around a whole lot, and your adrenaline didn't seem to stop pumping, and your chest felt like it was being compressed. How ridiculous she was to have let something as silly as fear of flying overwhelm her, especially when said fear was not an issue when she flew with Draco.

"How very mature of you Weasley, I'm crushed you won't let me in your little club." Draco sneered. "However, you'll permit me to leave you to your fun after I've taken Hermione back to the castle." Striding forth, he grasped her upper arm and began to lead her away. His actions would not be taken lightly of course, and he had expected no less.

Harry jumped in, rounding on Malfoy and stopping his progress, "Let her go! There no reason for you to come down here and ruin our fun. Let us be. Dumbledore doesn't want us fighting, so if you leave us alone, then we won't bother you." It was perhaps the most sensible reasoning Harry had ever done, and it took all his control to not punch the ferret right then, but he knew Hermione would be upset at that. In fact she already looked to be really upset about the whole thing. Her cheeks were flushed while the rest of her was ghostly pale. And she seemed to be trembling slightly.

"That's wonderful news Potter!" Draco said sarcastically, "You have your jollies with the Weasley and Weaslette and I'll take Hermione back to the castle." Again he made to leave with Hermione, but was stopped. He really didn't expect anything less, though he could still try.

"She doesn't have to go anywhere with you!" Ron said vehemently.

In a whisper Draco asked Hermione, so as not to be heard too clearly by the others, "You okay?" His hand still remained firm on her arm, steadying her.

Without any sound reasoning, Hermione did feel better. In fact the moment she recognized Draco's form down on the grass she felt all fear melt away. What she felt now was just the after effects. The adrenaline still linger, making her s little shaky and her legs still felt like they'd give out at any moment. If Draco hadn't come she didn't know how much longer she could have gone on pretending everything was fine.

In answer to him she nodded slightly and gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Draco was not fooled for a second however. Her color was gone, even her usually red lips seemed a near white in their pale pink tinge. And her eyes showed worry and relief. He knew where her relief came from.

Suddenly, Draco didn't care about sparing scar head and the two Weasley siblings. His initial goal had been to retrieve Hermione without truthful explanation. Obviously, they didn't know she was afraid to fly. But, it didn't take more than a cursory glance at the small girl to see that something was off. How thick do you have to be, to not have noticed her anguish?

As anger flared, he rounded on the three of them, "Are you blind?" he shouted.

"Malfoy, don't" Hermione called, tugging his robe sleeve, "It's my fault. I didn't say anything."

"That's no excuse. Anyone could have seen it without you telling them!" he continued glaring at Harry and Ron and even Ginny. If he had expected more from anyone it was the youngest Weasley, who seemed to show more intuition than dumb and dumber put together.

"Seen what?" challenged Harry and Ron together.

"Hermione's afraid of flying you gits!" the Slytherin replied harshly and with surprising emotion.

Perhaps it was the apparent concern and emotion in Malfoy's voice that caused all of them to take a moment to process his words. Aside from the surprising realization that Malfoy seemed to care about something, never mind it happened to the Gryffindor princess, they were having trouble accepting his words. If Hermione was afraid of flying then why had she been perfectly fine while they played some Quidditch?

"I'm sorry guys, I didn't want to ruin our day together." Hermione apologized.

"You've got nothing to apologize for." chastised Draco.

"But, Ginny said you flew all the time with Malfoy in practice." Harry reasoned.

'This was it' she thought. They were going to find out and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Cringing at the answer she would inevitably have to give, since she didn't take lightly to lying any more to her friends, she opened her mouth to speak. "Well the thing is-" she never finished as Draco interrupted.

"The thing is, she didn't enjoy it then either. Moody and I had to spend hours coaxing her to just mount the broom in the first place." He gave them a smug look, feeling that the matter should be concluded with his cover up.

Before anyone could speak further or give apologies and expressions of guilt, Draco dragged her away to the exit of the stadium.

More relief washed over her as she was saved from having to say, 'sorry guys but I feel safer with Draco than you, who I've known and loved for the past six years.' Now, however, as she reveled in relief she felt guilt over how true those unspoken words were. How was it possible? Why? These bits remained unanswered as she trekked along beside Draco, who was taking lengthy strides. The only sure thing was that it was possible, because it was true. The how and why were a mystery.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

**The Kitten Come Out To Play**

"Come along." Draco stated evenly as he resumed his usual pace, which happened to be twice that of Hermione's.

Easily falling into a near jog to keep up with him, she mumbled, "Thanks for that."

After a minute of silence Draco replied, "I didn't do it for you, we have a meeting."

The response had been so delayed it took her a moment to register what he was replying to. His excuse was an obvious lie in her view, but if it made him feel better, then fine. "Oh" she acknowledged, as if he hadn't just been shouting at her friends on her behalf.

They were indeed on their way to meet with Dumbledore and Moody. She should have known better than to assume she could make such care free plans with her friends, especially after getting back. Of course Moody would want to convene to moment she was able to report to him.

While Dumbledore's office was the likely grounds for their discussion, they were headed towards the dungeons.

'Odd' Hermione thought as she followed along.

Sensing her confusion, Draco spoke up, "Snape will be there, I believe the Headmaster had him brew something for this occasion."

The dungeons of Hogwarts' castle were very large and an intricate maze of damp halls and cold air. For the purpose of going to class the students remained on one of the upper levels of the dungeons. The Slytherin house entrance was further below, and still lower were darker corridors and rooms which no one explored anymore. There was no reason to go there. The lighting was minimal and the air foul and dense with smells that couldn't be placed; perhaps it was the many potions brewed by the Potion's Master or perhaps the air was thick with the activities of the past. The Marauder's map showed nothing of interest, so on any Gryffindor's part there would be no reason to venture forth into unknown areas.

If for some reason a curious student did decide to take a nightly stroll into the depths of Hogwarts' underground, then they would surely not get very far, for their growing fear would turn them back. Even Hermione could feel it. A sense of forbidding. A feeling that if one were to inspect the nearest room, it would surely be riddled with used chains and shackles and perhaps torturous instruments and ancient blood spatters.

A shiver ran down her spine at the images such thoughts conjured. In fact, her mind became so focused on recreating the evens that would have taken place in more archaic times that she scarcely thought she heard a distant cry of agony.

'This is why no one comes here, it's bloody haunted.' she thought taking a step closer to Draco.

Draco smirked at the slight fear he saw within Hermione. It was probably her first time ever being this far into the labyrinth of Snape's playground. For his own part, he'd only been down here a handful of times and not for more than an hour at a time. The only bright spot he could find about the place was that if you didn't want to run into anyone, Snape excluded, then this would be the place to hide out. It would take a lot to get a person to descend as far below as they now were.

Hermione again thought she heard something, chains rattling perhaps. "Malfoy, was that-"

"The Bloody Baron getting a rise out of the Gryffindor Princess? Yes." he interrupted.

"Oh" she said, blushing at her own foolishness. Of course it wasn't really someone's dead ghost… or not some torture victim anyway. 'Stupid Baron' she thought. It could have easily been Peeves too, though she wondered whether he'd even be found in the dungeons ever.

Upon entering the room, Hermione chose to forget any past dealings with the Potion's Master in light of their Order business. Crossing the dreary, but well lit room, she sat down at a rectangular table. Dumbledore was at the head, with opposite Snape him, and Moody was to the other side closer to Dumbledore's end. Hermione and Draco took the empty side, across from Moody. Draco sat nearer to Snape and Hermione to the Headmaster.

Snape sat sulking, black robes shrouding his features, and arms crossed closely at the chest. His eyes glanced momentarily at Hermione before directing themselves to the floor.

"I would have you know, that under normal circumstances you two would report to me immediately." Moody began, eyes still cast down, reading from the parchment before him. After a moment, when they had both settled in more comfortably, he continued, "Following procedures, I'll ask you a few questions regarding the assignment as a follow up. The report you have filed is quite sufficient for my own standards, which will be more than suitable for the Ministry." He let the parchment drop to the table and folded his hands together, much as Dumbledore sometimes did.

Draco cast a glance Hermione's way, wondering where _their_ written documentation had come from. Sly witch, hadn't even mentioned anything to him about it. In fact it had completely slipped his mind, as most trivial paper work did.

Hermione cleared her throat meekly under Draco's gaze. It hadn't taken her more than fifteen minutes to write something up real quick, and the night before, she was having trouble getting to sleep, so she had hoped it would kill time or make her even more sleepy. Some how relaying the facts on paper was actually a bore compared to the thrill of living the events. A small grin graced her face. It wasn't often she was able to catch her fair haired partner off guard.

Rolling his eyes at her obvious amusement with his slip up, he focused his attention on Moody, who was acting far too formal for his liking. "Lighten up old man, this is a meeting, not an interrogation. Don't give us that look." he snapped.

Scowling at his apprentice's insubordination, he kept his reprimands to himself. Though his posture did seem to soften slightly. "Well, now that you're here, I want to ask firstly, if you need to see Madame Pomfrey? As I heard, you left before being discharged, which I can only take to mean you are better?"

"Uh, yes, we're fine now." Draco answered, ignoring the fact that even now his body felt stiff and sore. It was no doubt the same for Hermione.

"So happy to hear that." Snape said snidely, arms still crossed and glaring his dark eyes at the two of them.

Sending his own glare right back at his favored Head of House, Draco resumed his attentions to Moody. Thus far Dumbledore hadn't spoken, so he would assume the old Auror was conducting the meeting for the time being. "What more would you know that isn't supplied in the report?" Draco questioned, safely assuming Hermione had given adequate details on everything.

Clearing his throat yet again, Mad-Eye cast a questioning look at Albus. It was difficult to deal with the unknown. "I would know if you felt anything in particular that was… out of place?"

Quirking one brow Draco and Hermione shared a similar glance at one another before turning back. "Err, define 'out of place'." he commented.

Chuckling Albus finally joined the conversation, "My dear boy… I'm sure you are aware of the immense amount of magic released the other night between the two of you." His blue eyes twinkled with something of excitement as he stared at the young Malfoy before him.

From raised brows of mild confusion and interest to furrowed of extreme confusion and concern, Draco kept eye contact with the wizened wizard and asked again, "While specifics would be nice, I'll rephrase, what do you mean 'immense amount of magic'?"

The twinkle seemed to fade upon realizing Draco's confusion was sincere. "Aside from your game of tag and short scuffle with the night creatures, was there nothing which prompt you to use magic?"

Hermione shook her head answering for both of them, "No sir, every instance was reported on. Nothing out of the ordinary, I'm sure we don't know where that release of magic came from."

Looking gravely Dumbledore spoke pointedly to Hermione, "We do know the source of the energy variance, and I'm most secure in saying that it was not from just one of you. Two separate patterns, two sources of magic. Both, of high and unmatched intensity. Miss Granger, I'm certain you know all about the Ministry's detection system." he continued after she gave a curt nod, "Then you'll understand when I tell you that your foray in Mistywoods Forest has produced a new rating on the Ministry's scale far higher and longer than possible."

Shaking her head firmly, sending silky and curly tresses bounding, Hermione refuted the Headmaster's revelation. "Not possible sir."

"Indeed." he agreed.

"No, I mean, neither Draco or myself used any magic that would register like that. Its all in the report." she gestured to the scroll in front of Moody, "The traveling was in a portkey manner, no magic from us. After that we used flash step for a while… and I mean, we did use it for longer than is usual and for further distances… but it uses little magic to begin with. And in the clearing, the fight, most of that was physical, we used flash step then as well, but only in a manner fitting for how Moody showed us. And… before that I used my Angelus powers, but nothing I haven't done before."

Silence followed the confident Gryffindor's proclamation. Three pairs of eyes stared at the two of them. The meeting had been called mainly to answer the very question they now threw back a forth across the table. Not only did they have no answer, but there was now more to question.

A loud thud came from Snape's end, where he'd place a tall container of some ocean blue liquid, which was surely the potion he'd been asked to brew.

Raising her hand as if first asking permission to speak in class Hermione stated, "Before we discuss anything else, I'd just like to state that I refuse to drink that." after her raised hand she pointed at the tall glass canister.

Draco couldn't help but shake with laughter, which try as he might, he couldn't stifle it all. He was certain he also saw Dumbledore's eyes dance with mirth, even though when the previous moment they'd been full of concern.

"Miss Granger, this was brewed for the both of you." Snape said coldly, with an underlying malice that reminded everyone present that he loathed the Gryffindor Princess and didn't seem too in favor of his previously favorite Slytherin Prince.

Hermione and Draco again shared a look, Hermione's eyes conveyed her message, 'This is almost too easy'. "I think Moody would agree that it is never wise to drink a potion which you yourself have not brewed or seen concocted." she stated brashly. It was her sadistic streak, which came out rarely and only in order to give people like Snape a hard time for all the torture he'd put her and her best friend's through the past six years.

"While I cannot refute the kitten's observation, I do have to say that if either of you does not drink the bloody potion you'll pay for it for the remainder of this summer." Moody said, almost jovially.

Draco hadn't intended to play any games tonight, not even after Hermione's apparent playful mood, but Moody's comment reeled him in, "How hypocritical of you old man." he said coolly, with a touch of amusement and Malfoy smirk. "The kitten merely repeats your own words, and you would have her disobey." now he tutted.

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. She had less contingencies about hiding her laughter, and let it ring out loud filling the room. As if it were infectious, Dumbledore again showed his own amusement with a slight smile and twinkling eyes.

Hermione's laugh was like music to his ears, and he made a silent note to himself to make her laugh more often.

Snape's words were those of reason, or rather threat, "Well, we could spend the rest of our day right here in the dungeons trying to figure everything out, or you could take the potion and be done with it!" his logic inevitably convinced them to down the icy cold blue liquid.

Not five minutes after consumption, Hermione felt a flush come over her and a soft bluish glow envelop her body. Draco was experiencing similar effects beside her.

'I just love how they clue us in on everything.' she thought sarcastically as she watched the knowing glances of her professors. None of them had cared to argue further until she drank the bland tasting draught, so she still had no idea what it did or what was happening. It was on this note that her mind seemed to make a little memo to ponder later; it took a lot of trust in these three men, even Snape, to have done that just now, and she'd been working on her foundation of trust for six years. Draco on the other hand had just shown the same degree of faith, perhaps only to Moody, she guessed. But so strong was it to rival her own, and he'd only been with them a matter of months. 'I have to ask him what happened to bring him to our side.'

"Now that you've used the Vital Potion to tell you the same thing we did, how do you explain it?" Hermione asked as the light faded and each person regarded them in question.

Surely, it had been their last hope that the potion would show the two rookies had not used an inordinate amount of magic within the past few days. If that were the case then they might have some theories and ideas still open, as to how such a tremendous force was possible. Now however, they were at a loss.

Even Dumbledore could not conceive the how such an event was possible. Perhaps in light of seeing previously thought impossibilities become possible right in front of him, Dumbledore was a bit more willing to take matters for what they were, to just accept what had happened. But, he couldn't. The answer might be invaluable to winning this war.

In an impassive tone Hermione didn't take unless she was on guard and questioning those around her, she spoke up, "I think, professor Dumbledore, that you are over analyzing what has happened." as if testing the waters, she waited to see if it was freezing or comfortably cool.

Dumbledore regarded her with keen and twinkling eyes, awaiting the explanation. It might do well to have the bright young witch's input.

"I know you want to understand, but sometimes you just have to take it for what it is." she sighed.

"And what would it be, miss Granger?" Snape sneered.

"It would be, _sir_, a balance." she replied glaring over at the Goth like bat of a professor.

Oddly enough, even Snape regarded her with mild interest at this point. So, she continued, "Riddle was a mind ahead of its time. He had power, ambition, knowledge, and a thirst for more power over everyone and everything. He was extreme in every way. Now, we have Voldemort, the same man, only with the interest of fifty years time. Even more of an extreme, if you will." she gestured lightly with her hands as if dictating with both her voice and body language.

No one even blinked as they waited for her to keep going. She shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. "Then there was Harry. His mother created the blood pact, a magic of love. Most unknown, most powerful, and again most extreme. The stakes were met. Voldemort was a shift in the balance, swaying the tides to the dark side, and Harry was an equaling shift to the light. However, since life is utter chaos, this balance could never remain. Voldemort is raising the bar yet again. You know it, you have seen it. The darkness is consuming, and the light is fading… even with Harry."

Clouded blue eyes stared at her from behind those useless spectacles, "Am I to understand, you believe another shift is waiting to occur?" he questioned, mulling her words over.

"No." she stated flatly, "I'm saying it already has. My powers, Draco's ability. None of it is possible and yet, here we are. One extreme matches another. In muggle politics you may have heard this theory used to reason why countries go to war; 'one side uses fists and the other buys knives, then one side buys guns and the other upgrades to nuclear arms.' Do you get my drift, sir?"

Dead silence followed Hermione's proclaimed theory. It gave them no answers and yet it answered everything at the same time.

"Some insane notion of the Fates just giving you great heaps of magic is not a solid answer!" Snape said rolling his eyes, all the while seriously thinking over her words.

"I can't explain what the Ministry recorded." she said in a soft tone, "I have my own ideas, which are half baked at best. But, I don't see how mulling over it is going to help any."

"Granger, the trouble is, we want to control it." Moody stated, and promptly continued upon seeing the defensive look on Draco's face, "On both your parts, though how you managed it boy is far beyond me, it was a dead give away. When you have no control over your magic, its just asking to be traced."

"So, it's a liability." Draco said, summing up what the Auror was getting at.

"Yes, yes. We know, but there isn't much we can do…" Hermione trailed off, yawning, she wiped tears from her tired eyes. It had been a long morning, and she wasn't even rested completely.

Draco noticed the fatigue beneath her mask and in his own sympathetic reasoning decided to excuse themselves. After all, they were really only called down so the Order could be completely certain they were indeed the source of the disturbance.

They were allowed to leave without any protesting, which was rather surprising. He wasn't complaining, now he could go back to bed and sleep in a little. Moody wouldn't resume training for another day or so, as was standard procedure for any Auror just off a case. A couple days down time as a bonus for a job well done.

An uncomfortable silence set in as Draco walked along side Hermione back to their dorm. Before, he never had to pointedly broach the topic of their relationship. Now that he was going to, he had no clue what to say, which was most unlike him.

As Draco seemed to be in deep thought, Hermione tried her best to ignore the setting of the dungeons until they were on the ground level. It was then she began to feel slightly off kilter. As a rush of cool fresh air met them, she caught the scent of that woodsy sweet smell she loved so much. She knew what was coming as she felt the sudden urge to wrap her arms around Malfoy's neck and never let go.

"Uh, Draco…" she began in a warning voice, "I think you should know, I told the, uh, 'other me' she could come out." apparently this was how it happened when she was conscious during the switch.

Considering she hadn't ever heard anything particularly bad about 'the kitten', she was surprised at how fast Draco whipped around and looked at her with very worried eyes.

"When?" he asked anxiously, not knowing if he could deal with suppressing any feelings for Hermione after another episode with her more affectionate counter part.

"I think, soon, like now." she said, refraining from moving any part of her body, as it was liable to reach out and touch Draco.

Draco knew the second the transition occurred. 'The kitten' didn't have Hermione's eyes. While still the same alluring honey flecked with rust color, they didn't captivate him, which meant it wasn't his partner standing before him. The second tip off was when she leapt on him and pushed him back against the wall, arms clings tightly as she buried her head in his neck.

"So the kitten's come out to play." he spoke softly as her hair tickled his chin. When she began to make gentle mewling noises, which oddly seemed like her purring, he rolled his eyes. This was going to a very difficult discussion.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

**A Short Farewell**

"I see you're back to your old habits." Draco said smoothly, detaching the girl from himself and stepping away from the wall he'd been pinned to.

A coy smile played across her face, this was not the innocent Hermione from a few moments before. Licking her lips and grinning widely she leaned toward him and rest her hands on his chest, tracing her nails lightly across the soft cotton of his navy shirt. "I thought I aught to say goodbye."

Feigning concern or remorse for any loss would belittle her intelligence, so he kept his glare down at her, "You're leaving?" he asked doubtfully.

"Come now Draco, don't be that way. I might have played a little game of clueless before, but that doesn't make me the bad guy."

"I could care less about that. My only concern is whether you understand that I've no intention of returning your affections."

Rich laughter sounded down the corridor, as The Kitten threw her head back and let loose such an amused fit that Draco had the think about what he said that might have been so funny. "My dear, I have no further intentions either." She reached up and stroked his cheek, "Affection can be simply that. You truly are dear to me. I was frightened when I first woke up, but you were right there and never let me go."

"I think, perhaps, it was you who could not let go." he corrected, sighing in relief. So, she was merely touchy feely, nothing more. "We'll save this conversation for later." he said. For the moment, he thought it best to return to their common room as soon as possible. After this morning's events he didn't think it a wise idea to meet the dumb and dumber whilst Hermione was in such a state.

The kitten happily complied, opting for a piggy back ride all the way back to the Head's dorm. It wouldn't have been such a problem if she hadn't started to swing her feet about madly and laugh as she hugged him for no good reason, in the middle of a flight of stairs.

Finally after what should have been an easy trip up to the fifth floor Draco entered their room and set her down on the couch. Before he could even turn around, she was snuggling in on the soft cushions.

After watching her for a moment, he spoke his first thoughts out loud, "Your so giddy and happy all the time. Why do you seem to take every little thing and relish in it?"

With eyes that never wavered she stared right up at him, "Because this is my last chance. I knew I'd never have much time, so I want to make the most of it I suppose."

"Explain to me what you mean by your last chance? Where are you going exactly?" he asked, taking a seat beside her.

"I told you before." she stated in a pout.

Unable to remove his eyes from the suddenly all too prominent red lips of hers, he wondered vaguely if this might be more difficult than he'd previously surmised. Swallowing he replied, "Well, tell me again."

Smiling, she began, "We are nearly bonded, Hermione and I. Very soon, we will be no different, so there will be no other to come out from within her subconscious."

"Is Hermione going to become as… affectionate as you?" he questioned, trying to cover the worry in his voice.

Shaking her head wildly, she sent those golden brown locks flying about. Again, she smiled giddily up at him, "Not exactly. I suppose in some ways we both become a little more like the other. I'm not really a whole other person, just a different side to Hermione which she doesn't express often. I'd say when its over, she'll be less of a bookworm and more compelled to have fun. But, she still won't be anything like myself."

"You speak as though you're a separate person, if you _are_ Hermione, then why?"

"Well, because it's easier that way, speaking I mean." she replied looking at him as though he'd asked about the logic behind why you look both ways before crossing a street.

"Have you always been there?" there were so many questions he wanted answered, and he was afraid he might never have enough time. There was so little information about the Angelus within the wizarding world, this might be his only chance to ever get any answers.

"Yes. Hermione has always been an Angelus, but I was… sleeping, if you will. It wasn't until that night, when her parent's were killed, that I awoke. It wasn't supposed to happen, you know?"

"How so?" he asked curiously, almost wanting to get a piece of parchment and quill to take notes.

"She hasn't come of age yet, she's too young. But, it happened, so here I am. I don't think it made a difference, she would have been just as stubborn a year from now as she was then."

"Stubborn?" he raised his eyebrows and looked down at her.

The kitten merely nodded in compliance, but when Draco seemed to still regard her in a questioning manner, she explained, "Like I said, I'm a part she doesn't express, so in order for us to bond, she needs to let loose all her feelings. It's been difficult, but I don't think she can deny them much longer."

For some reason, his mouth felt dry. He didn't know exactly what she was getting at, but he had an impending feeling nonetheless. "And what has she been denying, exactly?"

Giggling she answered, "_You_, silly!"

Coughing to clear his throat, he looked at her in mild confusion, almost stopping himself from inquiring any further. Something told him that, if she told him what he thought she might, then he'd be unable to forget about last night, to forget about that kiss. Yet, he couldn't help but take the plunge as his heart began to beat with a hopeful expectation, "She's denying me…what?"

More giggling, and then a sympathetic sigh, "I think you are denying it just as much as she is." she paused for a moment, debating over a few things. She might as well spell it out for him, he'd never be satisfied unless she did, "My dear, Hermione is on the brink of not being able to suppress her love for you." Coyly she smiled as she waited for her words to sink in and watch his reaction.

He felt weightless and almost giddy, which was a first for him. His heart beat madly in his chest, and he couldn't keep still. Standing he walked away and then back. Every fiber of his being felt as though it should be doing something, if only pacing back and forth. So, he strode to and fro, as The Kitten watched.

How was this possible? Surely the girl wasn't lying, thus far she'd never lied to him. Acted a little, yes, but never lied. So, if she wasn't lying, then maybe he'd misheard her. "You say Hermione is in love with me?" he couldn't help but grin even as he spoke the words. This was unexplainable. Why was he so happy about it? Just last night he'd been reasoning that any attraction between them was from pent up sexual tension, nothing more. Now, he felt positively elated that Hermione might actually have feelings for him.

"I said she loved you, not that she was _in _love with you." she corrected solemnly, enjoying the way she could toy with him.

His pacing faltered, and the grin fell from his face. "Don't play games!" he snapped. Somehow, he felt the matter to be most important. He had to know for sure. This was no laughing matter.

"Well, it's true." she defended.

"Which is it then? Is she in love with me or does she merely love me?" his voice betrayed his need to know, it sounded urgent.

"Well, would you be so downtrodden if she only loved you? Isn't that more than you hoped for in the first place?" While she was sill stringing him along, she saw a raw emotion of need within those stormy grey eyes, the likes of which she hadn't seen before. She knew that to push him too far would be a mistake.

"I…" he couldn't answer. The thought of Hermione's feelings for him, other than as a partner, never seemed to matter much before. But, in the span of only a few seconds, when his mind had jumped to the conclusion that she was in love with him, his spirit had soared and his hopes had raised to a whole new level. Now, when before he had even considered it, he felt as though he'd be absolutely crushed if she didn't return his feelings.

Draco blanched visibly, loosing much of his color. Mumbling to himself he said, "My feelings?" His eyes strayed to the kitten, who seemed content to hug the square throw pillow and smile at him. Sitting down, he lowered his head and held it in his hands. Gentle hands rubbed in circles on his back.

"The pair of you are really so alike." she commented softly. "It's not my place to say anything on her behave, but I suppose I do have some right. Mind you, she'd never admit it openly, at least not right now… but… she's unknowingly fallen in love with you."

Forgetting about his inner turmoil over his own feelings for Hermione, he raised his head and couldn't help but feel a prick of excitement again.

Sighing, The Kitten felt it was now her duty to tell all, "She won't admit it, not even in her own mind. She does admit that you are the only partner she can have, knowing that she could never work so in tune with another person."

"Not even Harry or Ron?" his masculine pride asked.

"Not even those two." she confirmed, wanting to laugh at the smug look his face took on. "Look, I know you feel the same way. I'm not blinded by any bad history. I see it every time you send daggers in the direction of other guys who look at her. I see it in your eyes when you look at her. I see it in your body language when you're around her." she paused a moment, "But, knowing doesn't mean much more than that. Hermione will still deny it. When she sees you, she sees someone she loves, but cannot get involved with."

"I think that mind set runs both ways." he said sarcastically. Hermione was the last person he ever saw himself starting a relationship with. There was so much working against them. And yet, at this point, he wanted nothing more in the world, which seemed enough to make anything work.

"She won't be able to pretend and deny much longer." she blurted out, waiting for Draco to realize what it would really mean.

'Sweet Merlin, that would mean…' he took a deep breath, envisioning what Hermione would do. Would she confess? Would she kiss him? It seemed each scenario gave him a satisfactory pleasure.

"You need to be careful. If you want to keep her, then you can't go about this in the usual play boy way." she reminded him, a little fearful that he'd botch it up and Hermione, and invariably herself, would never be with Draco.

He scoffed at her, "I think that was painfully obvious when I couldn't do anymore than kiss her, yesterday!" In the heat of the moment, he was afraid to taint her and didn't want to be with her like everyone else he had been with, but rather go slowly. Afterwards he had reasoned it was his voice of reason breaking through and telling him he had a war to focus on, but he knew that wasn't true. Now that he considered having her as his girlfriend, he was completely clueless. He'd never had a girlfriend he loved before. It was as new to him as it would be to Hermione.

This was all wrong. Last night he had concluded there was nothing between them and only a few hours before he had resolved to confirm this aloud with Hermione. Now, he was entirely love sick, over the idea of being with her.

"I'm just saying, that she's not going to accept any of this readily, even when she realizes her own feelings. So, don't run her off and make her doubt her heart's reason!" taking Draco's face in between her hands, she spoke to him, locking his gaze, "I don't have much longer, she's a truly restless soul, I can't even keep her down for more than an hour's time." biting her lip she thought for a moment, "I want to thank you for being so kind to me. I was lost and alone, before I was able to get to know my girl here. Help her where I can't. I won't be there to give advice or anything."

"What do you mean?" he asked, curious as to how the two minds really resided in one body.

"The bonding, its nearly over, she'll have total control over her powers and will be completely whole." her eyes searched his in urgency, "She's strong, I've only a few more moments. What happened this morning… tell her she can't strive to make other's happy at her own expense, it doesn't just end up hurting her. Tell her she hurt her friends by doing that too. Tell her she can't spend her whole life reading about living and not living herself. Tell her, if she ever needs a friend I'll always be on her side. Tell her to stop grieving over her parents, they'd want her to be happy again. And please… tell her you love her." Kissing him on the cheek, she sat back and smiled.

'Don't run her off?' he thought, 'she obviously doesn't know who I am.' The idea of a girl running from him was ridiculous. Then again… Hermione wasn't just any girl.

As he watched the kitten lay back down, he almost felt sorry to see her go, if this were truly the last time he'd see her. She closed her eyes and seemed to sleep.

Draco was on his feet in the blink of an eye. He stalked over to the window and threw it open. Letting in the sun and a warm breeze which smelt of autumn. Inhaling deeply, he braced himself for something he never thought he'd do. All his life he bowed to no man, not even Voldemort. Now, even after denying his feelings and writing them off as something they weren't, he was going to win her heart, no matter what it took.

If what the kitten had said was true, he'd unknowingly accomplished half his new goal, the other half would be getting her admit it.

A weight seemed to lift itself from his shoulders. How enchanting it felt to have every thing in order once again. Hermione would be his, and his alone. He'd love her and she'd love him. They'd be partners and take down the Dark Lord and spend the rest of their time thereafter living the life of Aurors together.

He chuckled to himself, almost laughing at how much of a love sick puppy he'd suddenly become. Draco Malfoy was trying to win the affections of one Hermione Granger. 'How amusing this will all be when others find out.'

But, what would he do? Obviously, he couldn't go about this in his usual manner; sending flowers or gifts… well he'd never actually done that either. If there ever was a usual courting etiquette then he couldn't do whatever that was. Oh, this was confusing.

Hadn't The Kitten already said she was in falling for him? That would mean she liked him just as he was, without having to do anything. So, why change now?

He nodded to himself, 'yes, he'd play it casual, nothing would changed. Everything would run it's course.'

"Hey" Hermione called softly at Draco's back. He was at the window, and while the fresh air was nice, something about it made her worry. She wondered if something was wrong, after all he would have just been with 'The Kitten'.

While his heart skipped a beat at the soothing sound of her voice, he slowly turned around, ready to act as though nothing were different, when in fact the world seemed to have turned upside down.

Hermione was standing there before him, bathed in sunlight, and looking every bit alluring. There was sincere concern in her eyes. What else could he do but reach down and tilt her chin up, while placing a soft kiss on her lips.

'So much for acting as though nothing were different.' he thought as he pulled back. Shock was now the emotion her eyes held. "I'm fine." he said, answering her unspoken question.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her chest felt tight. 'What was that?' she wondered at the kiss. It most certainly wasn't nothing… maybe if he'd kissed her on the cheek or head like before. But, on the lips, so softly and sweetly. What could it mean?

Then a thought struck her. "What happened with the kitten?" she asked.

Tilting his head, not expecting those to be her first words, he remained silent. Reaching out he tucked her hair behind her ear, loving the soft feel of the silky strands. He didn't expect Hermione to step back like she did. She'd never retreated from his touch before, why was she backing away now? The Kitten's words echoed in his head, 'Don't run her off'. Suddenly he became frightened. He didn't want her to run away, he hadn't meant to scare her. He needed to distract her, take her mind off of what he was doing… what he wanted to do.

"She told me that the bonding should be complete soon. She said she'd never come back, since you two would, uh, become a whole person again." If he knew the bookworm in her, then she'd jump at the chance to discuss the topic of the Angelus.

Without knowing, Hermione took a step forward, back towards Draco. Then another, and she was beside him at the window, "Did she say I'd feel anything? How will I know when it's finally done with?"

"No, she didn't mention the specifics." a relieved sigh escaped him and he relaxed again. "We just talked about how she was going to be gone… or at least not another individual, and she wanted me to yell at you for this morning." he chuckled.

"That's all?" she questioned, before comprehending his words completely, "Hey! Wait a minute, yell at me for what?"

Now he was laughing, something he rarely did and only when he was around her, "For misleading Pot Head and the Red Headed Weasels."

"Don't call them that!" she chastised, "And I didn't mislead them, what was she on about?" Hermione almost cringed as she detected a hint of jealousy within her voice.

Raising his brows, Draco turned to study her blushing face, "You did mislead them." he would ignore the jealousy he heard from her, since she seemed embarrassed by it.

As if taking his word for truth, though not her very own other half, she asked, "How?"

"You let them think you liked to fly." he answered.

"But, what was I supposed to say? They were all so happy." she defended.

"Yes, and now they are hurt. Not telling them is as good as lying to them. They're guilty and hurt. They no doubt feel bad over making you feel bad, since they're Gryffindor do-gooders and can't stand to see any person suffer." Upon seeing her dejected face, he ruffled her hair comfortingly. "Don't worry about it. They'll get over it." he soothed.

Smiling slightly she looked back up at him, "I didn't mean to do that." It was true, it was never her intention to make them feel bad.

"I know." he said, draping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her a little closer. He didn't want to press his luck, but he thought her mind was sufficiently distracted and there was nothing out of place about hugging her. "But, that's the trouble. Lying to make them feel better is still lying, which won't make anyone feel better."

Groaning, she started to feel really guilty over it. "Now I feel so guilty." she stated, almost wanting to cry.

"Well, I'm all for making Potter and any Weasley feel bad, but not at your expense, so why don't you go apologize?"

"When did you become so mature?" she asked playfully.

"I've always been far more mature than you." he replied.

"Have not."

"Have too"

The end of their argument left them both chuckling and feeling slightly better. On Draco's part, he was happy to know he could handle things normally and keep Hermione at his side. For Hermione, she was glad to know nothing had happened between Draco and The Kitten, and that while she had hurt her friends it was entirely repairable.

One final thought crossed her mind as they made their way down to the lake, hoping to find Harry, Ron, and Ginny. "How is it that you notice so much?" she asked. What she really meant was, 'how do you see what my best friends don't?'

Without even missing a stride or turning to face her, he stated as if it were most common and logical thing, "Because I always notice and watch you."

Hermione could not help the blush that crept to her cheeks. And why did her stomach suddenly feel full of butterflies? "Oh" was all she could manage, turning her eyes to the ground. She didn't notice the slight grin on Draco's face as he watched her once again.

A/N I have finally begun my responses to all of your most appreciated reviews. I will keep on top of updates, so if I have a response under your name and you review again, it's liable to have changed short thereafter. The responses are in my profile... I didn't want to load them all into my chapters. You can skip down the text stuff and look for your nickname in bold beneath Thanks!


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

**An Affirmation of Feelings**

Harry, Ron and Ginny had been down by the shores of the far side of the lake. They were skipping stones, having made a contest out of it.

Ginny seemed very capable at it. In fact, she was so good Ron decided it wasn't fair that she play.

"Just because my aim and technique are better than yours." she pouted as she sat down on a boulder up a little ways and contented herself to simply watch.

Without Ginny playing Harry was only half heartedly throwing stones, which was how the game started in the first place. None of them really wanted to go anywhere or do anything without Hermione, but they didn't know where'd she'd run off too. Besides, after what happened this morning, Harry felt bad and wasn't sure what he was going to say to her the next time he saw her.

It seemed coming down to the lake to simply find the flattest rock and skip it eased any troubled mind, if only a little.

Ron was in a right state, fuming over Malfoy. How dare the ferret presume to know Hermione better than them. He'd have to rethink his concession for her to train as an Auror. If Malfoy was involved then it was definitely not a good idea. But, Hermione was so happy this morning, how could he go back.

As their inner battles raged, they threw larger rocks further and further. It was a few minutes after Ginny had quit and opted for mused silence, when a familiar gruff voice broke the sounds of birds and rocks splashing.

"Affer noon, 'arry, Ron. Oh, and I see your 'ere too Ginny!" The Games Keeper greeted, striding from the direction of the forests' entrance.

"Hagrid!" Ginny shouted, bounding from her stone seat and giving their old friend a warm hug. It was a decidedly Hermione type of welcome.

"And you'd all be in a right state, I'd 'magine. I 'eard about 'Mione's training with that Malfoy. Never got me the chance to watch 'em mind ya, but Moody does nothing' sides rave about it." he chuckled nervously, hoping to make light of what surely weighed heavy on the three Gryffindors' hearts.

There was so much they didn't know, and while they were all valued members of the Order, it wasn't their place. Six years of childish taunting was nothing in light of recent events. Surely, they were mature enough to see that.

For the past summer, Hagrid had been away, by request of Dumbledore, trying yet again to reason with the Giants. 'Another tribe, another chance' had been the hope. Aside from Gwarp, who was coming along finely, there was no one. It would seem, word had spread rapidly and the impossible, that is the various bands of Giants coming together, had come to pass. Voldemort now had a loyal group of brainless but brawny followers. While the comparison seemed relatively close to the followers he currently had, the Giants were by far a fiercer ally.

How many more magical creatures would he con and coax? How much stronger could he make his army? The light's fight was becoming a struggle.

There was a ray of hope, which was the entire discussion of their last big Order gathering. If Harry and Ron could accept Malfoy, then they'd have a force to be reckoned with. Only time would tell. And any interference on his or an outsider's part wouldn't help. Their acceptance had to be entirely of their own will, no goading or pressure from anyone.

In truth, Hagrid had been so sidetracked in his task of negotiations that he'd forgotten just how long he'd been away. He hadn't been there for the end of the school year, so the last time he'd seen his favorite students was in late May.

A tear came to his dark beetle like eyes as the youngest Weasley gave him a welcoming hug. It seemed as though she instinctively knew that he needed one, after so many stressful and useless days of trying to plead his case and convince the brainwashed mind's of his fellow Giants to join their cause.

Patting her on the head, careful to be gentle, he looked to the other two boys, smiling behind his massive beard.

"Hagrid!" Harry greeted, still not too old to show his enthusiasm.

"Hey there!" Ron came, moving away from the waters. "What have you been up to?" he asked, obviously hinting at his teacher's absence from school the previous quarter.

"Not much, Order business s'all." he scratched his head a bit nervously.

"Uh huh." Ron nodded, giving him a piercing gaze, but not making any further inquiries.

"It's been too long. We missed your class." Harry stated, seeing the weary look to Hagrid's appearance, he felt it was his duty to lift the older man's spirits.

The gleam to Hagrid's eyes became more prominent and he had to sniff to keep his tears back. While he was usually an emotional guy, this was a particularly high strung moment for him. He was in fragmented pieces at the moment. Overjoyed at seeing Harry and Ron again, but depressed at his failure and dark looking future.

Ginny piped in, steering the subject back to where she wanted it, "So, what do you think about our 'Mione training to be an Auror?"

"Well… I think that subject is best discussed over a pot o' tea." his voice sounded slightly more content at the idea of relaxing in his cabin.

Once the four of them, five if you count Fang, were settled in, Hagrid set the water and let it simmer the old fashioned way. There seemed something even more soothing in using menial methods to make his food and tea. It wasn't as though he missed using magic, since he never had the chance to fall into a routine with it.

The air outside wasn't chill, but the roaring fire was welcomed nonetheless. Fang lay dozing, spread out before the hearth, and the rest of them took the couch and armchairs. The slouch in Hagrid's posture told them further of his 'Order business', which they wouldn't pry in to.

"Now then" he sighed before reiterating, "What do I think of 'ermione's trainin'?"

Ginny, for her part, was a little shocked that Hagrid was going to answer the question. Usually he used some sort of stalling method or diversion tactic to assuage answering questions he thought he shouldn't. Not that this was a touchy topic… for her at least, but she got the vibe he didn't really want to get involved.

Ron spoke up first, before Hagrid even had time to collect and voice his thoughts. After all, Ron seemed to be the most opinionated on the topic. "I don't think she should be doing it." A harsh elbow in the ribs from his sister caused him to cry out a little, "Ow, Ginny, what was that for? A man's entitled to his opinions!"

"Yeah, if the 'man' thinks first!" she retorted, "Hermione's old enough to make her own choices. Give her a break. You're still hung up about Malfoy."

"Yeah?" he said incredulously, "And you're not? The ferret has been our _enemy_ for the past six years. Now he's suddenly on our side, without giving a good reason I might add. What do you expect me to do?" he inhaled, having used all but a single breath to argue that one, "I should think you'd be on my side here Gin. After all, it is our family he was making fun of, for _six years!_"

Sympathy and understanding flashed through her hazel eyes, "Ron, I know all that. But I don't think he was making fun of us so much as his father was. And he does have a good reason for being with us. And, don't get angry with me for saying this, but the past six years mean nothing. You guys were _eleven_, eleven!" her voice carried an incredulous tone, "It was bickering, like what we did when we were younger." somehow she knew the last bit was too much, and she cringed at his reaction.

True to his heated nature, he flew off the handle, standing and towering over her, "That ferret is nothing like a sibling, we have never 'bickered' like that before!"

"Ron, you agreed last night. What's changed?" she redirected.

"What's changed? I'll tell you, what's changed." he mocked, "That slimy, stuck up, pretty boy, thinks he knows _our '_Mione better than we do! She's our girl, not his, what makes him think he can take her away?"

It was Ginny's laughter that burst his bubble, and while he wanted to be even more angry at her for laughing in such a situation, he couldn't. Sitting back down he sulked, "What's so damn funny?"

Riding out the last of her amusement she sipped her freshly poured tea before explaining, "Ron, honestly. Today, this morning, he did seem to know her better. We didn't even see how scared she was, and you know she wouldn't have said anything. It was a good thing he came down to the pitch. Once he said something I could see it right away. She wasn't sweating from being tired, she was scared stiff." she took another sip of her tea, it was quite good. Her eyes were downcast, hidden beneath a strawberry-blond fringe of lashes. She was debating whether or not to completely speak her mind on this. "If you ask me… I'd say he truly cared." she commented softly.

Ron's mouth gaped, and no words came out. The red-head looked over to Harry, who seemed brooding over each word silently, for support.

When Harry finally stirred and seemed to notice Ron was giving him a cue to speak his affirmation of Ron's side, he looked up. His emerald eyes were clouded and masked, which was why no one was able to gauge his reaction before his word's were spoken. "You think so too Gin?" he asked sincerely.

Ginny was surprised, but not shocked at Harry's question. He was more level headed about these things, and from his recent behavior she could now tell that the very thought she'd voiced was what had been troubling him for some time. "Yes." was her only reply. She wondered if he'd speak further.

The dark hair young man merely hummed in acknowledgment, but refrained from vocalizing further depth to his thoughts.

Seeing the aghast expression on Ron's face, Hagrid chimed in, "So, you think Malfoy cares for 'ermione?"

Nodding Ginny explained further, "It seems that way. And from what Hermione says, she cares about him too. Let's face it you guys, they're not just partners-" she gulped, "They're friends."

"No, NO!" Ron intoned, "That's wrong!"

Harry seemed to have a severe look about him, "I saw it last night, you guys were asleep, but I saw it." he mumbled.

Ginny was long used to Harry's 'half thought-half voiced words', so she naturally prompted him to explain further, since he wouldn't even noticed he'd said something, "What did you see?"

His eyes searched the fire, as if all the answers were somewhere within the flames. He was in debate over what his instincts told him and what his mind told him. Last night's debate in the Gryffindor common room consisted of Ginny lecturing them and pushing for their acceptance over the matter of Hermione being an Auror. None of their conversation dealt with Malfoy, since they didn't want to deal with it so soon. Now, what he'd been thinking over since last night and this morning was beginning to haunt him. It just didn't seem right, how could Malfoy be a good guy, how could he actually care about Hermione. The worst part was, the Slytherin didn't seem to _just _care, he seemed to care as much as they did.

Finally tearing his gaze from the crackling hearth he answered, bearing all he'd been envisioning over and over, "Not a minute after Hermione was out of bed, Malfoy had woken up. It was as if he couldn't sleep with out her there. He seemed jealous of me… like he should be the one acting the role of her best friend. And then he… well, he took her back and got all sappy, affectionate. I swear it was like when Hermione wasn't herself that one time and was clinging to Malfoy for dear life." he paused, "I saw it in his eyes. In six years of our fighting, I've only ever seen the occasional anger in his eyes, but last night…" he trailed off.

"What did you see Harry?" Ginny prompt again.

"Love" he finished, causing Ron and Hagrid to choke on their tea, which they'd made the mistake of sipping at the wrong moment, "Like, our love. He cared, like we do. I don't understand. Is it even possible?" he asked genuinely to Ginny, as if she had all the answers in her pocket.

"Of course" she supplied, "He's not made of ice. I think it must go back to his father." she surmised, "I'll bet you anything, the only reason he acted like such a prick was because he wasn't allowed to act any other way. I'll bet Hermione's the first real friend he's ever had."

Ron rubbed his face harshly with his hands, before setting down his cup, a little too hard. The tea sloshed over one side, but he made no apologies. Standing again, he strode for the door, the only words they could discern from his angry muttering as he wrenched to door open was, "Bullocks!". And with a slam of the thick wooden door, he was gone.

Hagrid had the feeling that the whole situation might be awkward for him if he'd known them a day less, but as it was he sat calmly and too tired to chase after the moody red-head. "He took that a trifle better than expected." he commented, sincerely.

"Harry, what do we do?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"Let him cool off I suppose." he answered, sitting further down into the cushion of his chair.

"Not about Ron, about Hermione." she corrected, knowing full well Ron was off to he castle to storm around the common room for a bit.

Before Harry could reply, a small knock sounded at the front door of the cabin. Only one person ever knocked so mildly and meekly. Knowing who it was caused Ginny's eyes to widen in surprise and Harry to sit up straight again.

Seeing their reactions, Hagrid faltered slightly in his call to the visitor, "Uh, come in." If he weren't so dead tired, he'd answer the door himself.

A mop of lengthy and silky brown waves and curls appeared through the cracked doorway. "Hey guys" she greeted, but upon seeing Hagrid her slow and timid greeting was thrown out the window. Hermione bolted in through the now wide open entry way, and practically threw herself at Hagrid, who had stood up just in time. "Hagrid!" she cried, "I'm so glad you're back. I've watched everyday to see if you might have come back home! And then I saw the smoke and I just knew!"

An emotional and heartfelt welcome just wasn't the same if it wasn't from Hermione. At this point, Hagrid could no longer contain himself. Crying out right he answered her, "Bless yer little 'eart. I've missed yeh too." A massive hand hugged her small shoulders, as tears escaped his eyes.

No one seemed to notice the tall, built figure leaning on the door frame, not stepping over the threshold. Draco waited patiently as Hermione greeted the big oaf, who gave new meaning to 'bumbling fool'.

Harry was the first to notice. While Hermione was still hugging Hagrid, and Ginny was searching for a large enough handkerchief, Harry saw Malfoy in the doorway. Standing up, trying to stretch his height, though they were equaled, he just stared at the blonde haired Slytherin.

The air almost crackled as grey stormy eyes met severe emerald ones. The two boys didn't move, but searched the eyes of the other for something. Draco was the first to look away, casting a warm glance over at Hermione, as she too had begun to cry a little. When he looked back at Harry, he found the dark haired boy's gaze had shifted to rest on Hermione also. When Harry had turned back from where Draco had been looking he felt compelled to do something he never thought he'd ever do. Harry gave a curt nod of acceptance. Draco's response was much the same, a single nod, before stepping into the cabin and coming closer.

The die was cast, there was no turning back. Oddly enough Harry felt relief and calm in his decision. He had searched those stone cold eyes for some flicker of the emotion he'd seen before. But, he found none, and he'd almost given up. Then, when Malfoy had looked over at Hermione, he saw it, plain as day. Concern and amusement were suddenly dancing within those luminescent depths, and the liking he felt for Hermione all but radiated off him. This was all Harry needed. This was the undeniable truth, Malfoy cared for Hermione, which meant immediate acceptance.

Breaking away from Hagrid, Hermione turned around to call Draco in. Imagine her surprise when she found Draco and Harry standing side by side, not fighting, and not even indifferent, but rather in a natural manner. It was enough to make her stop dead in her tracks. Her honey eyes searched emerald and then grey, before repeating the process. When Harry quirked a grin at her, she smiled brightly, knowing everything was fine for now.

Guilt spurred her forward, and she hugged Harry, easily falling into a warm embrace. She spoke in a muffled voice, for her face was at his chest, "I'm so sorry for this morning. I should have told you, but I didn't want to let you guys down. Please forgive me?"

Ruffling her hair, Harry regarded her apology as preposterous, "No, Hermione. I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry for not noticing sooner." he soothed.

Draco had to bite back his retort, wanting to comment sarcastically on the sickening display before him. Okay, so it wasn't disgust he felt, more jealousy at his Hermione in another man's arms. But, he held a shaky place as it was, and any snide comments would break his foundation.

Ginny seemed to notice Draco's internal struggle with holding his tongue, so she chirped in with a smirk, "Well, now that we're all terribly sorry over nothing, let's sit down and talk about something else."

Hermione's heart soared at the prospect of involving Draco in one of their fireside chats. It was intimate and a first step to belonging. But, as her eyes searched the room, her spirits fell, "Where's Ron?" she asked.

"Oh, he had to go for a little bit… Mum called him home." Ginny answered. Luckily, as Hagrid and Harry threw her scandalized glances, Hermione was focused on Malfoy.

Malfoy saw the looks though. As they all took their seats, he caught the female Weasley's eye and gave her a questioning look, to which she shook her head as if to say, 'Don't ask.' Shrugging his shoulder, he sat on the lumpy couch beside Hermione, wondering what they could possibly talk about.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Something Hidden Beneath**

A/N I have finished with each response, and made all possible updates. I think I eventually ended up working backwords, so the last response was to the first review. I'm sorry if they're not entirely unique... besides 'happy' and 'glad' there aren't many words within my vocabulary that I can use to express my happiness and joy, hey there's 'joy' too, at all of your reviews. Thank you all so much for your positive and critical feed back. Thank you all for taking the time to review, even a single word is appreciated.

Fang lifted his head to gaze at the stranger among familiar faces, before lazily resting it down again and dozing before the warm fire.

After a few minutes of tense and uncomfortable silence, Hagrid cleared his throat and stood. For a man his size, standing up from a close knit circle left quite a noticeable gap. Harry thought to question his long time friend and professor, but then he saw what he was up to. Hagrid had moved back to his cabinet, which was known to most the friends to hold his many assorted tea cups.

A few moments later, Hagrid set a matching set of cups down in front of Hermione and Draco.

"Thank you Hagrid, it has been a while." Hermione said, sipping the hot liquid with a bit of cherishing glee. How she missed being inside this cozy cabin by the warm fire and surrounding by her closest friends. If only Harry's acceptance meant they could act casual. She laughed inwardly, knowing it would be some time before that ever happened.

Though Draco made no move to drink any of the tea Hagrid set before him, he did give a curt nod and spoke one word, "Professor"

Being called 'professor' was a joy Hagrid never seemed to become accustomed to. He blushed slightly at the young man's use of the word and lack of disrespectful undertones usually carried.

The thick silence built between them and had Hermione not been so content in sipping her tea, she might have felt awkward.

Draco knew that whilst his kitten lapped at her drink, she'd be oblivious and under the impression that time would sooth all wounds. He knew better, as a Malfoy he'd been raised to know that no matter the circumstances, charm was a most refined tool. He needed to charm his way in and prove himself to her friends, otherwise he'd never have her. This was indeed his next step into her life, and he couldn't afford to screw it up.

"Were any of the tribes willing to listen?" Draco asked.

Again, caught unaware, Harry and Ginny nearly sprayed their drinks into the fire. Wide eyed, they looked at Malfoy. Upon seeing his serious demeanor, though Ginny thought she saw a ghost of a smirk, they turned their attentions to Hagrid, wondering if it were true.

Running a hand over his course dark beard, Hagrid thought how to reply. He hadn't necessarily wanted to keep it a secret, but he hadn't planned on relaying all his troubles and those of the Order to the youngest members, who happened to have a lot on their plate as it was. "'ow'd you be knowing 'bout that?" he asked

Judging from the big oaf's tone, he knew the subject was not out of bounds, which wasn't far from his conclusion before. While no one made any direct comment to him about the half giant's whereabouts, it was pretty easy to piece the information together. Not only had he known that Dumbledore had sent him off on such a request before, but he knew the Magical Creature's professor had an estranged brother whom was trained fairly decently by wizarding standards. So, that meant, he might have a bit more leverage to negotiate. Plus, the extended absence could only mean Order business.

Raising his brows, conveying that such knowledge was common he replied, "Why wouldn't I?"

Frowning slightly, almost unreadable behind the beard, Hagrid paused for thought. While he didn't believe anyone had told the youngest Malfoy, there was no denying he knew now, "Right" he said, before hunching forward a little. "Well, then. None of 'em were willing to even hear us out the whole way. We were lucky if we even got that far. Poor Gwarpy, I know it jus' broke his 'eart."

Not wanting to feign sympathy, or deal with any sentiment really, Draco focused his subject more. "So, they're allied to the Dark Lord?" the questioned had been answered long ago in his head, but they needed the conversation to flow and at this point there were few things in common amongst them all. Sadly, this war and Voldemort was one of them.

" 'fraid so. We all saw it coming though I suppose, silly to have gotten me hopes up in the first place." he sighed.

"Yes, but now we know for certain what we're up against. Do you have any ideas what other 'friends' Voldemort's trying to make?" Draco prodded.

"You-Know-Who's got all sorts o' dark creatures, mind you Giants aren't dark or anything, but yeh know what I mean all the same."

"Well, I think the Dementors and Giants are enough…" Harry joined in, "Hagrid, where exactly do we stand?" Somehow, news of the Giants siding seemed to awaken a suspicion in him. Just how was the Light fairing. Did this have something to do with why Dumbledore was pressuring him to gain control of his wandless magic and Legimens so quickly?

Becoming rather fidgety all of a sudden, Hagrid played with the hem of his woolen sleeve. This wasn't information which he should disclose. In his years of being around Harry he knew there was no use trying to lie or avoid the question, so he did the only thing one could do, he told the truth, "That's not for me to tell yeh."

A dark look came over those emerald eyes, and Hermione knew their was a storm brewing. There was no standing in the way of Harry when he had that look.

Hermione caught Harry's eye, and she willed him to keep looking at her. Harry's eyes seemed so distant and far off, their color was deeper, almost forest green. The glance they held wasn't too out of place, until the seconds added up and it became more than just a meaningful glance. Slowly, the light crept back into his eyes, and the wall seemed to fall. She smiled brightly, keeping his gaze until a small blush came to his cheeks and he looked down to the floor.

Harry had been ready to fly from the room and march up to Dumbledore's office. It would seem once again he was left out of the loop and their was something going on which ought to include him. Of course, even through his urgency to know 'who was winning', he remembered the word's spoken all too recently to him, about having to inquire before receiving an answer.

Just before he was ready to bound from his seat, dead set on his rash course of action, Hermione caught his eye. Those honey brown eyes that had flecks of gold, they seemed to calm him. When he looked at her he saw such a beautiful young woman who held the key to every man's heart. She was his best friend, and he couldn't ask for more. Even through his foggy haze of determination, her warm smile penetrated and his feet ground themselves again. As his mind became more rational he began to take note of her face and he cast his eyes down to rid himself of unwanted thoughts.

Clearing his throat, which was something he never did, Draco tried to further cut through the intimate blinking contest Potter seemed to be having with Hermione. If it would keep the emotional prophetic boy from looking at her like that again, then he'd divulge as much information as possible. "Potter, I think we all agree this war has never been easy. If it wasn't such a struggle, it would have been done and over with long ago." he commented coolly, while casually resting his arm on the back of the sofa and behind Hermione's shoulders.

Hesitating for a moment, Harry directed his attention to Malfoy, noting the way he draped his arm around Hermione, but dismissing it to a further recess of his mind. "What's going on right now, at this very moment?" he asked.

With slightly furrowed brows Draco regarded Harry, "Well, I'd like to know that myself-" upon seeing the displeasure written on the all too emotional boy, he heaved a sigh and told Harry exactly what he wanted to know, "Okay… Voldemort's been gaining strength on a daily basis. It doesn't help that we don't operate in a manner where we can openly go about recruiting for our cause. He grows stronger while we remain the same."

"Was that what Dumbledore said?" Harry asked.

Shaking his head, Draco continued, "Neither of us-" he gestured a nod to his side where Hermione was, "-have been to many Order meetings recently. Moody keeps us pretty occupied."

"I can imagine." Harry stated, earning him a smirk from the Slytherin.

"It's common knowledge Potter, do try to keep on top of things which concern you." he chastised, but not in his usual malicious tone. It was more sincere, as if a flying instructor trying to explain why it was so important to practice caution while riding a broom.

Jumping to Harry defense, Ginny commented, "He's got enough on his mind right now, without having to interrogate every adult just to get a shred of information about what's going on out there."

Quirking a brow at the Weaslette, he retorted, "I should think we all have a lot to deal with." he paused, letting her process what he meant, "This war 'out there' as you so mildly put it, is not so far away from _in here_, that it should be taken lightly on any account." seeing the angry look on her face he smoothed over, "I know that no one asked for any of this," the red head's eyes calmed, "But, we 'play the hand we have been dealt', as Hermione put it to me a few weeks ago." Now, everyone's attention seemed to draw to Hermione who suddenly found interest in the design of the tea cup she had… it might have been less obvious had the cup not been decorated with a single blue line around the circumference.

Peeling the focus away from an uncomfortable Hermione, Draco continued speaking still more to Ginny than anyone else, "No interrogations are needed to find out what's happening. And even if it were, I should think that when it is something which concerns your life, you'd find a way."

"What makes you the expert on knowing how this has effected us? Harry's had to deal with this damn confrontation since the day he was born, if anyone knows about being effected by it, he does." Ginny was reaching for anything. While Malfoy had made a colossal point, she couldn't help but lash out at the way he cut her down to size so easily. The worst part was, he wasn't being his usual 'Malfoy' self about it. He wasn't sneering or being sarcastic, he was sincere and serious and honest. Oh, how she hated having her impressions of people turned around and flipped upside down. Even as she spoke her words she wanted to kick herself.

Once Ginny spoke in his defense, Harry wanted to clamp a hand over her mouth. It was that Weasley temperament. How pathetic it made him look to have his best friend's younger sister jump to his defense. Okay, she was a close friend of his as well, but to Malfoy it would seem more the former.

Before Draco even opened his mouth to reply, Hermione tugged at his shirt. He ignored her protest and continued, "Firstly, I think Potter is capable of speaking for himself. And secondly, what makes you think he's the only one who's had to deal with it all his life?" the words just flowed from his mouth at this point, and while he kept in check how he referred to them and his tone of voice, the content of what he spoke was something that flowed over as soon as he thought it, "Do you know who my father was? Do you have any idea what sort of learning a Death Eater's son receives from day one? There are many who have had the Dark Lord's shadow looming over them since the day they were born, so don't tell me that Potter here is getting the worst of it!" he concluded in a slightly raised voice.

At this point Hermione was clenching his shirt and he finally took consideration of it. When he met her eyes he knew immediately he had said too much. While her gaze was soft and glowing, it held a weeping sadness that wrenched his heart. Her eyes had such concern he didn't know if he'd be able to wave her off and tell her it was nothing. Worse still, he'd misspoken in front of three other people whom he'd least want knowing.

Before he had time of a plausible excuse Ginny spoke up. Her voice seemed thick, as if her throat had been burning and gulping back tears, "Malfoy, I'm so sorry-"

Draco cut her off with a raised hand for silence, "Forget it, I meant nothing by it other than to make you see that there are many others out there who are effected just as much, and taking everything in stride."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak further, to assure him that she knew what he really meant by it and that she was sorry and would always be willing to listen and that he needn't make excuses, but an intense glare from Hermione stopped her.

With a single but stern shake of her head, Hermione ensured Ginny's silence on the topic. The last thing Draco needed was for Ginny to get all sappy on him and promise her undying friendship now that he'd changed his ways. She loved Ginny dearly, but the younger girl just didn't understand that Draco couldn't be treated like Harry or Ron. The only thing he'd get from her was the idea that someone was trying to pry into his personal affairs and find out exactly what lead him to being with Dumbledore and the Order.

While Hermione softened her look at Ginny, letting her know she wasn't angry or anything, Harry stared at Draco. Something within those silver eyes told him he didn't want to know the truth or history of the youngest Malfoy. There was something beneath the surface that he had no right trying to uncover, so he'd best let the conversation go.

A loud snore broke through each person's silent reverie. Hagrid was sound asleep in his chair, snoring contently. Four head's turned simultaneously, Fang's included. Hermione covered her mouth quickly, and tried to grasp her ribs and hold them in place, but it did little to help stifle her laughter. As she turned her head into Draco's chest and continued with her fit, Ginny began giggling also.

It didn't take long before each of them was dying to let loose their amusement, so they staggered to the door and filed out. While Draco kept his back turned and did little more than chuckle and scoff, the others were practically rolling on the grass. He was glad for the sudden distraction, and damn it if he didn't find the brute's snoring to be as humorous as the rest of them.

Straightening up and composing themselves, they began to walk back up to the castle.

"Mum will kill me if I don't get back before dinner." Ginny said amicably.

"Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about that, since it's still early." Harry replied looking at his watch, it was just after three. What a long day it seemed to be.

"I wonder if I should go now?" the red head questioned again, though more to herself this time.

Before Harry could say anything, Draco commented, "Go home. Obviously you won't be able to concentrate on anything else unless you do." he said.

Heaving a dramatic sigh Ginny agreed, "I suppose you're right."

'Of course' Draco thought, 'I'm always right.' A silly smirk came to his face.

"Of course." Hermione said playfully, "Draco's always right." she ended sarcastically with a jab to his stomach.

Ginny and Harry laughed a bit at this. It wasn't often anyone could poke fun at Malfoy and not have him jump to defend himself with a snarky insult. Of course, they knew full well that if Malfoy wasn't insulting them they couldn't insult him. Only Hermione could get away with it, and only she could do it and make it seem as though it was completely harmless. It would definitely take a while for them to get used to him being around, which they were almost certain was going to be as often as Hermione was.

Draco fell back a step, awe written all over his face. If anyone cared to look his way they would have seen it, but he pulled his cool mask on after a moment and picked his stride back up. Though, he still stared down at Hermione in wonder, it didn't show. How well she must know him. 'And yet, she knows nothing!' he reprimanded himself. Her trust was so implicit in him, and he hadn't told her a damn thing about what happened. Guilt began to brew within him.

"Just so long as you know it." Draco replied to her comment, earning a hardy laugh from her. Merlin, he loved to hear her laugh.

It was Ginny and Harry's turn to be awed. They continued climbing the steps, but both thinking the same thing. 'Did Malfoy just make a joke?' they didn't know what was more shocking, the fact that he was joking around with Hermione or the fact that it was something they would have said.

Once they were inside, Ginny suddenly became extremely apprehensive about something and didn't seem to stop fidgeting. Harry was about to ask her if she was alright, when some understanding dawned on him as well. Wide eyed, they shared a brief glance of slight panic.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, recognizing all the signs.

Ginny had just remembered that Ron was in the Gryffindor common room. There was a chance that he might have wandered and they could run into him any moment, which would be disastrous of course. Clearing her throat and trying to collect herself more, she reasoned, "You two both look terribly worn. Why don't you go back to your dorms and get some rest?"

The matter seemed decided before either Hermione or Draco could put their two sense in. Harry and Ginny were to return to the Gryffindor tower, while Hermione and Draco were to go and get some rest.

Just as Harry and Ginny began walking away, Draco spoke up, not settling for their decision, and piecing things together, "Will Ron be flooing home with you then?" he called to the youngest Weasley.

"Yes, he's waiting for me right now I'm sure." Ginny answered, hardly even stopping and turning to look at him.

"I see then, so he is here in the castle and _not_ at your home?" he asked keenly, earning the attention he seemed to be demanding from the girl as she whipped around with the same panic in her eyes as before.

"Wait" Hermione said, "Ron's here?"

While Ginny's mouth floundered for an excuse, Draco supplied Hermione with an answer which seemed logical at this point, "Weasley stormed off raging and has been sulking up here since, I suspect. And I can only guess what he's throwing a hissy fit about."

"Ginny!" Hermione chastised, "And you too Harry! You don't need to lie to me about these things."

Immediately guilty, both her friends stepped back and tried to explain. "I'm sorry 'Mione, it's just that he was so angry and I didn't think you needed that right now."

Sighing, Hermione didn't even bother to make a big deal out of it, perhaps this made them even, "Is he in the common room?" she asked.

"I really don't think you should talk to him right now. He was _really _angry." said Harry with true sincerity.

'Now you see her…" Draco thought, and as Hermione's form vanished as if out of thin air, he finished, 'Now you don't.' The second his partner questioned the freckle faced weasel's whereabouts, he knew she'd be heading there as fast as possible.

At the confused and concerned looks on Potter and the Weaslette's face he explained, "Flash Step. She's no doubt at the entrance to your House common room right now."

Harry and Ginny exchanged worried looks. Ron had been extremely upset and little time had passed to let him cool off.

Seeing their looks, Draco followed after Hermione, not liking the implications of those worried eyes.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Better Friends Than Lovers**

Ron paced and fumed. Neither did anything to ease his mood. There was something far more unsettling about Hermione and Malfoy being partners now than there was last night. It wasn't until after the first ten minutes, of wearing a pattern into the rug before the hearth in the Gryffindor common room, that he realized what it was. Ginny had said it, Malfoy and Hermione were 'friends'. Being friends meant she felt the same way for the Slytherin as she did for him, and that slimy git felt the same way for her as he did. In other words… Malfoy was definitely smitten… just like he himself was.

Dammit, six years and he was nothing more than her friend. That no-good-blonde-pretty-boy was closer to having Hermione as his own, than he was, and that bastard had been calling her names since he first met her. How twisted was that?

What if all the name calling was just 'school yard bullying' and a cover up for a crush? No, that wasn't possible, he'd been too cruel and ruthless. The Ice Prince had a countenance which could not be a lie. But, if it weren't a lie, then why had he changed?

Everyone knew that Hermione was his… or would be. Ron had a crush on Hermione since so long ago that he couldn't pin point the year or time. The fact that he'd already loved her as a friend only added to the flames of desire as he grew. At seventeen, he was almost a man and didn't have crushes. Crushes were for boys, he was in love, with the most beautiful and kind hearted girl in all of the wizarding world.

Now, he had Malfoy treading on marked territory. It hadn't been Ron's plan to move his relationship with Hermione along until after they had graduated and killed Voldemort. Well, in truth he hadn't even given it much thought. His feelings were sort of factual and less emotional. Everyone knew he liked, loved rather, Hermione. And everyone knew they'd end up being together. So, what was the point in planning anything out when it was going to happen anyway?

Doubts were forming, doubts in the form of his least favorite Slytherin. There were so many reasons why Ron felt threatened. Among them was the fact that while Ginny had only applied the term 'friends' to the relationship, that was the same term used to describe Hermione and his own relationship. Somehow, Malfoy had created the same standing with the girl in a matter of months. Another fear was of Malfoy's legendary appeal. There didn't seem to be a witch in Hogwarts who didn't drool over the 'Sex God of Slytherin', even girls in Gryffindor. So, if he had to fight for her love with that blonde haired ferret, then what would the result be?

'No!' he told himself. They were _just_ friends, if even that. There was no possible way Hermione held the git in as high regards of love and affection as she did himself. 'No way!' he assured himself.

It wasn't long before Ron started to feel worn out from his high strung pacing, and took an armchair beside the warm hearth. Now, he stared into the flames while brooding. Already his mind had formed various plans and plots to rid Hermione of Malfoy's presence. Always in each scenario he envisioned at least one solid punch to the ferret's face, while he stood the victor and protector of Hermione.

Hermione arrived outside the portrait of the fat lady, who seemed surprised at her sudden appearance.

"M'lady." Hermione spoke eloquently with a bow.

The painted woman blushed furiously and fanned herself with a nearby feather, "Oh my, what a little darling you are this year Hermione." she said in a giddy sing song voice.

"I'm in a great hurry, so I must pass quickly. But I am overjoyed at seeing you so sooner than usual. Perhaps later this evening we could chat and you could sing a few notes for me." Butter the plump woman up and get her the open the door, without the proper password.

"Why of course dear. I would love nothing more." she spoke gaily, allowing the darling girl to enter her house common room.

"Many thanks" Hermione called behind herself as she quietly stepped forth into the Gryffindor tower. It was truly a wonder how someone like Sirius couldn't manage that, he'd had more charm in him than anyone else… well perhaps not Draco.

Cautiously, wondering if Ron was perhaps sulking in the vacant boy's dormitory, she stepped out of the small alcove and into the common room. Eyes searching, it didn't take her long to spot Ron. Though his red hair stuck out in most instances, among the gold and red decorum, he very nearly blended right in. All she could see was the back of his head sitting in his favorite armchair.

'Oh boy' she thought. Even from across the room, she could feel the tense aura around him. This was not going to be easy.

Ron thought it odd, that he hadn't felt the least bit startled by Hermione. He hadn't heard her enter or approach. The only indication he had was when she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and whispered his name. He was jerked from his reverie, but his body stayed calm and didn't jump. Her small form walked around and took a chair opposite him.

Remaining silent, Hermione sat down in as an unthreatening manner as possible. Legs folded beneath her, she leaned heavily onto the armrest. 'Approach every matter with caution and care, even those involving the people close to you.' Moody's words rang in her head. She sniggered inwardly now, as she remembered Draco's snarky retort to what Moody had said in that instance, 'That include you old man?' Draco then proceeded to pull Hermione's arm and try and walk away murmuring just loud enough for the older Auror to hear, 'Come on Granger, that means we can't trust this old fool.' of course he'd been trying to skip out early from practice, but the way Moody exploded was hilarious. Draco was always trying to get a rise out of everyone around him, as if to prove that he was calm and collected while everyone else had no control. Whenever it involved Moody it was most amusing.

Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of all thoughts concerning Draco. The last thing she needed was for Ron to feel she wasn't focused on him right now, she couldn't imagine what he might have to say if he knew where her mind was wandering off to.

It was difficult trying to handle Ron as though he weren't her best friend, but rather like some random person she was attempting to negotiate with. In truth, calming Ron down from one of his more severe tempers was very much like negotiating. But, when she stopped to analyze it, she felt guilty. This was Ron, and regardless of what Moody had told her, she could never view him as anything but her best friend.

She softened her features, and allowed her body and mind to accept that she was in the presence of a dear friend. Now the question was, whether or not to be blunt or tip toe around the facts.

Opting for bluntness, since that was how she usually was when she and Ron had a row, "Ron, are you angry with me?"

Silence followed, which made Hermione most unsettled. Ron just stared into the fire, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen them before. His face was fierce with thought.

In the next moment Ron leapt to his feet and towered over Hermione, anger flashing violently in his features, "Angry? I'm not angry Hermione, I'm bloody furious!" he shouted at her.

Remaining collected she tilted her head upwards to meet his eyes better, and asked, "What are you angry about?"

He just stared her for a moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw. "The FUCKING FERRET!" he finally yelled.

Upon seeing his jaw muscles tighten and relax, she had started to squirm a bit, then as he yelled she sank back into the seat cushions as far as she could go. "Ron, I thought you agreed that it was okay for me to train with him as my partner."

Now Ron bent over, placing his arms on each arm rest and leaning in close to Hermione, "Yes, but I that agreement had nothing, _**nothing**, _to do with you guys being friends!" he bit out scathingly, as his face grew dark.

Pressed back against the seat, in a cowering manner she couldn't stand, Hermione furrowed her brows while her deep brown eyes searched Ron's dark blue ones. "Malfoy is a good guy. He's my partner and, yes, he is my friend. I know how you feel about him. No one's asking you to be friends with him." she spoke softly, 'though it would be nice.' her mind added.

Ron leaned forward even more, their faces were only a few short inches apart. "If he is your friend, then what am I?" he asked in a deep whisper, eyes darting to her lips, which seemed to be calling to him. It was time Hermione and him be together. With Malfoy in the picture, he couldn't wait until after graduation.

Once Hermione saw his eyes glance to her lips she felt panic rise within her, "Ron, maybe you should sit down. We can talk about this." she reasoned. When he made no move, save a slight waver back and then forward again, she coaxed more earnestly, "Just sit back, before you do something you regret."

It was a terrible situation for Hermione. Her heart wanted absolutely no romantic strings attached to Ron, but it also could never hurt him. If he tried to kiss her, she was afraid she wouldn't stop him, for fear it would hurt him. Somehow, she had to make him see reason, before he did something regrettable.

Time didn't seem to flow in quite the right manner, it seemed a bit slow. Her eyes watched as Ron reached a hand out. She felt him stroke her cheek, it was then her eyes widened and she feared she might not be able to talk him down. His hand moved down to her jaw then her neck, and grasped a tendril of hair.

Right in that moment, Hermione lost hope of dissuading Ron and making him stop and think. He'd always been a rash one, most Gryffindors were. There was nothing she could do, if she didn't want to hurt him. She'd always known or at least suspected that he had liked her on some level, more so in recent years. But, it had just been some silly crush, right? Now, maybe he was just jealous. Jealousy drove many people to do crazy things. Kissing a best friend would definitely be one of them.

As Ron leaned closer, Hermione silently prayed that after this they could still salvage their friendship. His lips were almost touching hers, and she squeezed her eyes shut, cringing back slightly, desperately wishing time would freeze and she could buy precious few seconds to think of a proper plan.

Having braced herself, her world had gone dark with her closed eyes and the only sound which had filled her ears was the heavy thudding of her hearth, which was in her throat at the moment.

Hermione was mildly surprised when a hand, and not a pair of lips touched her mouth. Firm and warm, though slightly calloused, she knew it to be Draco's hand. And then his familiar scent washed over her, and she knew for certain it was him.

Aside from the fact that she couldn't breath now, she was relieved beyond belief at the sudden interference.

"Weasley, if you kiss my hand, I may be forced to cut it off and kill you shortly after." came a steely cold, venomous voice from behind the armchair in which Hermione sat.

Ron was back standing up straight as fast as he could. Unlike Harry, he could top Malfoy in height easily. His whole body seemed to shake with anger.

Hermione's pupils dilated as she anticipated what her red-headed friend might do next. Did Draco even know what trouble he had walked into, and was causing by being present? She wouldn't have wished him gone though, at this moment, Draco was her savior. He'd just extricated her from a situation she'd seen no way out of.

"Get your hands off of HERMIONE! You Slytherin BASTARD!" Ron shouted.

Draco must have known that to not comply would just push him further, and at this point, the only place the berserk red-head could be pushed was right over the edge. His hand slowly unclamped and moved away from Hermione, who stood up from the chair.

'Merlin!' she thought, 'What to do, what to do?" she questioned over and over. Each second that passed, she knew brought some eminent fight between Ron and Draco closer and closer. If Ron fought Draco, they'd never have a hope of becoming civil.

It was then an idea struck Hermione.

thwack

The sound resounded, even in the well padded common room, which generally didn't echo any noise.

Ron turned his head back to Hermione, sporting a reddening left cheek, where she had just slapped him.

Draco stared on, now in amusement. This was turning in to quite the show. Little Weasel got what he deserved, daring to kiss his partner like that.

With her hand still raised, palm open from her slap, she lowered it as she met Ron's eyes. His eyes turned from fury to disbelief. It had been her intention to redirect Ron's anger. If she could make herself to focus of his rage, then he wouldn't tackle Draco and try to kill him.

"What was that for?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.

'Ummm' her mind searched. She couldn't very well tell him it was so he wouldn't fight Draco. Instead, she grabbed the most logical reasoning she could find, "For almost kissing me!" she huffed, putting her hands on her hips, as she'd seen Ginny and Mrs. Weasley do so many times. The effect however fell miles short of the other two red-headed women. Hermione was too small and slender to give off a threatening demeanor. A pixie might as well do the same action to a Hippogriff.

Draco almost laughed at Hermione's attempt to intimidate. As partners they each compensated for the other's short comings. Intimidation was his job. His little kitten could scarcely frighten a butterfly away, what with her soft and beautiful features and small frame. Not that she couldn't kick any bloke's arse who tried to start something with her, but she wouldn't be able to frighten them away before hand.

Ron seemed to find some amusement in it as well. He smiled at her, before reaching a hand out to cup her cheek. "Hermione, you look too cute like that."

It would seem the angry Gryffindor had forgotten all about Draco, which had been fine with Draco until he started touching Hermione again. Now, Draco clenched his jaw, and cracked his knuckles as his fist squeezed tight.

"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded, as she swat his hand away.

'That's better' thought Draco.

Moving her hands from her hips, giving up on the move which would forever remain within the Weasley family, she crossed her arms over her chest. This was her own action, one she did many times. The 'arm cross', was usually used when she was lecturing her two best friends over a variety of things, such as not doing their homework or copying her homework or not correcting their homework or not studying, and the list went on.

She was desperate to cut the situation down to size. Make it another squabble between them. Hermione and Ron fought like cats and dogs. They had since they first met. That was a part of their friendship. They would always make up no matter how serious the fight might get, which always stood to make their relationship stronger. Now, if she could just manipulate things a little, she could deflate this whole thing.

"You can't just try and kiss me!" she huffed again, in a very know-it-all reprimanding way.

"And why not?" Ron shot back.

This was good, when they argued, Ron usually didn't stop to think about his reasons much. He'd spout off anything without good cause to back it up. "Ronald Weasley! Did you ask me first?"

"Hermione, maybe we should have this conversation without _him_ here." Ron gestured to Malfoy.

Rolling her eyes, trying to play it off as something trivial Hermione groaned. "Ron, you really need to get over this. But, fine. If that's the only way you'll talk to me and explain what's going on, then, okay." she said.

"No." Draco said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Malfoy, please." she requested, hoping he wouldn't prove to be as stubborn as Ron.

"No." the blonde stated solidly again.

Now she turned and looked at his silver eyes with her pleading ones, silently telling him this would work.

Draco's eyes remained impassive, but his lips pressed tightly together, forming a narrow line. "Fine!" he snapped, before striding away and out of the room.

"Good riddance!" Ron shouted after him, only to receive a hard pinch on the arm from Hermione, "Ow! What was that for?"

"Like you have to ask." she told him.

Taking a deep breath Hermione relaxed a bit. Ron's fury seemed to have run its course. While he was still very much upset and probably very angry, he was calm and most importantly entirely sane.

"Sit down Ron." she told him, as she made to pace back and forth in from of him.

Ron took his seat as commanded, glad to be rid of the Slytherin.

"I don't know where to begin with on this one, Ronald." she started.

"Hermione, I really like you, you know that?" he interceded.

Stopping her pace, she turned to face him, "Ron, I have to be honest with you. You are more likely to be my brother than my boyfriend." It was true. While, she didn't feel like Ron was her brother, she figured that he and Harry would be the closest thing to having one that she could imagine.

"But, we have always been meant to be together." he reminded her.

Giving him a disbelieving look she replied, "Since when?"

"Well, since…" he tried to think, not sure when it had been decided.

"Ron, everyone else has thought we would end up going out. Did you ever want to go out with me?"

"Well, yeah, plenty of times."

"Oh?" she asked, still unconvinced, "So, you want to date me?"

"Well, you're beautiful and intelligent, why is it hard to fathom that I might fancy you?" he shot back, not in real defense of what he was trying to argue, but more with the intent of winning this little argument.

"Thank you Ron, that's sweet. But, which part of your anatomy is making that call?" it was a most un-Hermione thing to say. But, she had to get him to see his real feelings on this. He had already pointed out that it was everyone else's expectations and not his own.

Blushing, Ron dropped his gaze, "Hermione!" he said, most embarrassed at what she was insinuating.

"Well I'm sorry Ron, but just think about it." she paused, "We've been friends for so long, we wouldn't know how to be anything else. We will always be friends. Nothing more and nothing less." Biting her lip she tried to throw every possible reason out there, "Tell me, we wouldn't be constantly bickering and breaking up and then getting back together and then breaking up again over the stupidest of matters. We fight enough as friends, could you imagine us as lovers?"

A small smile played across his face, "Poor Harry, he'd go bald trying to deal with us then."

Laughing Hermione answered, "I think the whole of Gryffindor would be driven insane." Hermione sat down on the couch next to Ron's chair, "If you go by your own feelings, what do they tell you?" she asked.

Ron thought about it. Hermione was the most beautiful witch he'd ever known, though she hadn't started out that way. He chuckled as he envisioned the frizzy haired buck toothed girl he'd first befriended. Now, even as a gorgeous young woman, he couldn't see her as anything but his best friend. Ok, so there were times when his hormones seemed to rage and he had a fantasy here and there. But, fantasies were nothing like having a serious relationship. They'd be at each other's throats.

The truth was, he didn't want to date Hermione. "No, I don't want to date." he continued as another thought occurred to him, "But, that doesn't mean you can go around with ferret-boy."

"Draco Malfoy is his name, Ronald." she corrected, "Draco and I are friends." she watched Ron grimace, "_Good_ friends", she emphasized.

"Well, don't be!" he ordered.

Giggling Hermione stated flatly, "No way." after giggling a little more she continued, "We work too well together _and_ he's not our enemy _and_ he's more than decent once you get to know him." upon seeing Ron's disgusted face she held her hand up to silence whatever retort he had coming, "You don't have to be his friend, or get to know him in any way. Just be my friend, and let me do what I want to."

"Hermione, how can you trust him? He probably just wants to get in your pants." he reasoned, going by his conclusions from earlier.

Rolling her eyes, she responded, "Don't you think he could have done that when my other personality came out?"

Ron stilled completely, eyes wide in shock. He had expected Hermione to reprimand his crude phrasing and insinuation about her new friend. Instead she threw this at him, making him fear the worst, "Don't tell me…"

"Of course not!" Hermione stated quickly, heart pounding as she saw Ron settle again. That was stupid of her, she'd almost set him off again. "I'm saying, that he obviously doesn't have such intentions if he passed up such a golden opportunity." she explained.

Seeming to mull over the point she made, Ron sat for another moment, "I suppose so." he conceded. "But, I still don't want him near you."

"Dumbledore trusts him, and so do I. He really is my friend." she assured, "He's saved my life dozens of times."

"So have Harry and I, why can't we be your partners?" he reasoned.

She hated it when he actually had a good point, "Because, Moody wants me to be Draco's partner." 'When in doubt, blame someone else.' her mind said.

"So? We can talk to Moody, change his mind." Ron was reaching now, still very unwilling to accept Hermione being anywhere near Malfoy.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll let you handle that though. I would like to keep my head attached to my neck however, you know, not have Moody bite it off." she said sarcastically. Moody already didn't have any soft spots for any of the Golden Trio. Not even Harry. The only person he seemed to have any liking for was Draco, and she couldn't even begin to fathom how that had come about.

"Well, can't you just stop?" he asked. He was slightly thrown by the darkening look that came over Hermione's usually bright and vibrant eyes.

'Just stop?' she reiterated Ron's words in her head. If she _just _stopped, then she wouldn't become an Auror, and she wouldn't become stronger. The whole reason she was doing this was because on the night of her parents' death, she'd been totally helpless and weak. Now, for the first time, she had confidence that something like that night would never happen again. If she couldn't fight back and prevent it herself, she knew her partner, Draco, would. There was no doubt about it, if she and Draco became stronger, no one she loved would die.

"No, I can't." she said softly, almost as if to herself.

"Hermione, don't be like that." Ron almost pleaded. Her eyes were so far away, and he was starting to worry.

Blinking, Hermione tried to heed his request and bring her mind back around. "Ron, I need you to know this. There can be no doubts." she reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

The change in her demeanor truly worried him, and he became most alert when her small hand grasped his, in that moment she looked so vulnerable.

"This war, Voldemort and the Death Eaters, all of it… has taken my parents away. I loved them so much." she rang his hand a bit as if to emphasize it. It seemed by making Ron accept Draco and her own decision to train, once and for all, she was also making a personal declaration and vow.

Eyes watering slightly, as memories of that night flashed in her mind. The blood, there was so much blood. "They were taken from me, and I-I, just stood there… I was too late. They died because of me."

Ron wanted to interrupt her and sooth that hurting tone out of her voice, tell her she was wrong and there was nothing she could have done. But, the look in her eyes kept him an avid listener instead.

"I was ready to throw my life down, but not before giving it my all, to win this war. I still am. But now, I'm out for revenge. Lestrange and the others will pay for what they have taken from me, they will pay dearly." she growled the last part.

An emotion which Ron couldn't describe coursed through him as he listened to Hermione speak. He'd never seen her act like this. She didn't even seem to be aware she was speaking to someone else. The dark look in her eyes frightened him somewhat. Was it blood lust? No, that was impossible. Their Hermione could scarce hurt a fly, never would she crave to kill.

"I've trained and worked my arse to improve as fast as possible." Her eyes were again focused on Ron, no longer dwelling her inner most motives, but on sealing her argument and convincing him. "Draco was a lot farther along than me, but I'm catching up. Moody won't have me train with anyone else, and I wouldn't want to. And, I won't stop training, because if I do, then I won't be able to help win this war." she reasoned.

"Well, Gin and I aren't training for anything and we're still going to stand beside Harry. Hell, Harry should be training, if anyone should be." he said.

"But, I'm an Angelus." she reminded him, "I would have had to train to control my powers anyway. Now, if I didn't continue it'd be a waste. The truth is, our side isn't doing so well anymore, Ron, we can use every bit help we can get. Right now, me being an Angelus is a good card to have up the sleeve."

"But-" he started to argue back, but was cut off.

"'But', nothing." she cut in. "Ron, accept it. I'm not going to stop and Draco is going to be my partner. I'm not asking you for anything more than acceptance. You and I are friends. Harry and I are friends. And, Draco and I are friends. Get over it and accept it. Harry already has."

Sighing in defeat Ron rolled his eyes, much like Hermione often did, and conceded, "Fine." he breathed out. "But, if that ferret so much as looks at you the wrong way, I'll kill him."

'Yeah, that'll be the day.' she thought, knowing Ron could never take Draco in a match. "Thank you." she stood, pulling him up with her and giving him a hug.

Draco had been listening in on their conversation, never willing for a second to let that raging baboon alone with Hermione. Now, he had a whole new worry on his mind. Hermione spoke of revenge. This was something he could not have. Revenge clouded the mind, if they went into the final battle and she was impaired by thoughts of killing Lestrange to get back for her parents' murder, then Hermione would get herself killed, and him as well, since the only way Hermione was dying was if he was dead and unable to protect her.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

**Revenge and Drinks**

Draco was leaning against the stone wall, just to the side of the Fat Lady's portrait. Potter and the Weaslette were trying their best to stand still and wait. Draco had just commented on how restless Gryffindors were, and they had stopped their pacing, but found it impossible to just stand there. It amazed them that the Slytherin could wait in silence with his calm and cool façade.

Earlier, they had come rushing down the corridor, full speed ahead, not showing any sign of stopping. Malfoy's voice had rung out, halting them. It had been under his harsh orders that they were waiting for Hermione and Ron to finish their little chat within the room.

Ginny's temper was fluctuating as she was torn between her rising anger, mainly directed at Malfoy, and the Zhen like chants she was saying in her mind to keep her cool. In her view, Malfoy's sudden alliance wasn't that big a deal. Perhaps having one less year of his taunts, not to mention she had never been too much a focus of them, gave her less of a history to get over. Regardless of why, she felt the opinions of Dumbledore, Moody, and Hermione alone were enough to put her own trust in the Slytherin.

But, she couldn't help feel a little upset with him, as he stood there calmly, 'as if he doesn't give a DAMN!' he mind shouted at him. The fact that the Fat Lady was now shamelessly blushing and flirting with him didn't help.

"Malfoy, I think we can go in now." Ginny finally cracked.

His impassive expression was made uncaring by the fact that his eyes had drifted shut for the last few minutes. For a second, Ginny thought he might be asleep, leaning his back on the wall and his arms crossed in front of him. But, no sooner had she begun to wonder about his conscious state than he gave her a subtle shake of the head.

In reality, Malfoy was listening intently to Ron and Hermione's conversation. He was ready to jump in there the second things got out of hand. Now, however, he was overhearing her speak of revenge. This troubled him.

Ginny watched as Draco followed the rejection of her idea by tilting his head and furrowing his brows. He seemed troubled and to be concentrating all at the same time. As she watched this, she too scrunched her brows and wrinkled her forehead, perplexed by his odd behavior. 'Weirdo' she called him.

"What are they saying?" Harry asked suddenly.

Ginny whipped her head in his direction, confused. It took a moment before an understanding dawned on her, and then a little guilt. Once she knew what the blonde prince was up to, which was protectively monitoring the situation, she felt bad at jumping the gun and making him the focus of her frustrations.

Draco just shook his head again, though with something of an emotion written on his face. It was more than apparent he was concerned over something, but he wouldn't let them in on anything. Just as Harry stepped forward, with a stern look set to his emerald eyes, which meant clear a path, Draco opened his eyes and stopped him. His cool gaze halted Harry. Then he raised a hand palm facing the young raven haired boy.

Baffled, Harry looked incredulously at Malfoy, and then to Ginny as if she could explain why Malfoy had that mad cold gleam to his eyes and now held his hand up and if to say, 'Cease and desist!' like some corny nineteen twenties cop.

Presently, Malfoy quirked his thumb in, leaving four fingers up. Then his index finger, leaving three.

By the time Malfoy was at three, both Ginny and Harry knew he was counting down. But, they still were at a loss for what it was he was counting down to.

Though neither Gryffindor knew what would happen when Malfoy ended his count by forming a fist and reaching zero, they were on the edge of their seats, so to speak.

Ginny was actually holding her breath at the mimed number one. Leave it Malfoy to command the attention of anyone around him. Though, considering it was the Prince of Slytherin, he never disappointed, so she held her breath and waited.

The moment he finished his count down, the portrait swung open and Hermione sauntered out, relief and warmth spread over her face. From Draco's perspective, the corridor seemed to grow lighter with her presence.

Hermione smiled brightly, so happy she could continue training without further disruptions in the form of protesting friends. Upon seeing the anxious looks on Harry and Ginny's faces, she announce, "Everything is fine now. Though, Ron wants to leave for the Burrow soon."

"Oh, that's great!" Ginny exclaimed as she ran over to Hermione and gave her a hug.

Though Hermione was usually happy to receive and give hugs, it somehow seemed unnecessary and out of character of Ginny at that moment. 'Oh, well' she thought, 'Ginny has her imposing Weasley stance and I guess hugs are my department.' she reasoned, hugging Ginny back with one arm.

For all his jealous loathing of the freckle faced Gryffindor Draco thought he was doing a damn good job of biting his tongue at the moment. When he was in a fowl mood, everyone knew. While he found less and less fault in Potter, which seemed to be an exponential change, he still had to struggle to not throw out insults.

Draco's silence seemed to speak volumes to Hermione. Though her back was turned, she knew something was amiss. "Ginny, you know how he is… you're keeping him from his meal." she joked.

"Alright, I'm on my way Ron!" the younger girl called in through the open doorway.

A distant reply was heard, "Did you hear that Gin? It was my stomach rumbling. Hurry it up will you?"

Harry and Ginny broke out laughing. Ginny scurried off into the common room with a quick wave to Hermione, "I'll be back soon, keep owling me." since it was a command and not a request for mail, the girl didn't wait for Hermione's acquiescence.

"Hey, I'll be back in a couple days. Dumbledore's got me with lessons tomorrow. I'm hoping I can convince him to let me stay here for the remainder of the summer, but you know how he is." Harry said.

"Of course. Let's go to Hogsmeade when you visit next time." Hermione suggested, standing on her tip toes to give him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Sounds like a plan." Harry replied, nearly lifting her off the floor as he hugged her back and placing his own kiss on her forehead, "Stay safe 'Mione. No more missions, without telling us first, please?" he asked softly.

Looking Harry in the eye, she nodded. This brought a smile to his face. He too walked into the common room. Hermione wasn't sure if he was eating over at the Weasleys or going back to Grimmauld Place. She hoped it was the former. Right now, Harry could use all the love and company of the Weasley family. There seemed an impending feeling, that the final battle was near. Harry most surely felt it, which meant a great mixture of feelings for him. Fear and anxiety would probably be the foremost.

Once the portrait was closed, and the Fat Lady made her stumbling farewell to the lithe and handsome Slytherin, they were on their way. Side by side, Draco and Hermione walked the path back to their common room, which wasn't too far from the Gryffindor tower.

To Hermione, there seemed an oppressing silence, something not being said. She couldn't help but steel glances at Draco every few minute or so. But, his eyes remained forward, not so much as acknowledging her. There was definitely something calculating about those grey eyes at the moment. He had something on his mind, and Hermione wanted to know what it was.

With light spirits, Hermione almost skipped over to the hearth which was beginning to look familiar. The fire was already going, though she didn't question why. The far window, over by the desks was open, showing the darkening sky over the forest and letting cool breezes of approaching autumn air flitter in. She was so happy in this moment. Perhaps she had been secretly dreading the outcome, wondering and fearing what would happen when her friends learned that she and Draco were not just partners, but close confidents and friends. Now, she didn't have to worry or tell herself that Harry and Ron were her friends and would love her regardless. Now, everything was settled, and she could continue unabated and with everyone's loving support.

Twirling around, she stood in front of the couch, warm light from the fire washing over her. It was then, she noticed Draco was still standing in the alcove of the doorway, cast in shadow, head down. "Draco?" she called out, remembering she wanted to pick his mind over and find out what was troubling him, "What's wrong? Why don't you come in?" she asked softly.

Since the moment Potter left, not before since he was too busy refraining from tearing the friends apart from one another, he had been frantically searching for the right way to broach the subject. There was no room for debate, Hermione had to drop her vendetta for Lestrange, but he couldn't very well put it in so many words. If he knew his little Gryffindor, then she wouldn't take kindly to being told what to do.

His mind was lost to the deeper recesses of his tactical thinking, when he heard her sweet voice calling to him. Stirring from his reverie he looked up, not even realizing they had arrived at their room. Gulping, he fought to keep himself in place. Glowing from the light of the fire, she stood radiantly across the room, keenly regarding him with concern. It was then he registered something about her clothing. Not inappropriate, though most complementing, there was something which struck him. Perhaps it was the silver dragon with dancing with the crackling flames? No. Maybe it was just that she seemed sexy and adorable all at the same time in them? Yes… but not why the clothes stood out to him.

It took him a moment longer, but then he remembered they were the jeans and shirt he'd thrown at her to buy from the muggle department store. He'd forgotten.

"Draco?" she asked again, unsure of why his eyes seemed to look at her with returned concern and something of a sadness.

All at once, he rushed forth. While she could have moved, he knew she'd just stand there. He could have raised a fist and prepared to strike her and she would have remained stationary, not believing for a second he'd do anything to harm her. So, in his mad rush, and gripping of her shoulders, she just stared at him in question.

"What's wrong? You've been off since I met you outside the tower." she spoke softly again. Always softly, when there was no other sounds but the crackling logs and fresh breezes.

It seemed he had no good plans for this, his urgency and fear seemed to win over any more practical approaches he might mull over after a night's rest. "Forget about Lestrange. Forget about your revenge!" he stated firmly, tightening his grip on her small shoulders to emphasize his point.

Her creasing brows told him her mind was working rapidly, and her eyes seemed to darken at the mention of the insane Death Eater's name. "I can't." was her only reply.

Shaking her frame slightly, he pushed, "Voldemort is our concern! This war is our concern! If your eyes are trained on Lestrange's throat, you'll lose sight of everything else!"

Shaking her head furiously, sending her brown locks flying, she tried to shake Draco's hands off. "That _thing_ killed my parents! I will hunt it down and kill it, for their sake!" she said adamantly.

"Don't talk like that!" he half shouted at her. He'd never heard her speak about killing someone, let alone with such dark determination. How long had she been developing the idea? How long since the embers of resentful rage had turned into the consuming flames of revenge? Why hadn't he stomped them out earlier? "You'll get yourself killed!" he pointed out.

"Yeah?" she said, pacing away before turning back around, eyes somewhat watered. "Well, not before I take her down." she proclaimed. This was the first time she'd admitted it aloud. For some time now, she'd found resolution in her own death, not caring if it came two days from now, so long as she killed Lestrange.

While her eyes danced with pain and anger, she watched Draco. His head was bowed and his face shadowed from a stark contrasting light. He mumbled something, but she couldn't hear it. "What" she inquired.

"You can't" he whispered.

"I can't what? Beat Lestrange? With your help, she'd be down in two seconds flat!" she stated almost jovially.

"No, you can't… you can't just die like that… you can't" he was still mumbling, barely audible.

Hermione only heard because she'd been straining to hear. She was confused, his voice sounded distant, as if his mind wasn't even with him right now. She wasn't sure what to say to him, "Why?" it seemed stupid, but asking 'what' would only make him repeat himself.

Taken by surprise, Hermione found herself held tightly against Draco's body as he harshly pressed his lips to hers. It took her a moment to react, but no sooner had her body begun to kiss him back, than he pulled away and stalked from the room. As she saw his dark cloak flutter away into the dark alcove and out the door, she thought she heard him say, 'Because I need you.'.

Stunned, Hermione sank into the couch and replayed the events that just transpired over in her head.

What was going on between her and Draco? Why was he so upset to learn of her newly decided plan to avenge her parents' murder? Why had he kissed her? Why did she enjoy it so much?

While the kiss was nothing compared to the one they shared just the other night, she still felt lingering effects. There seemed a warmth her lips now lacked. In fact, her whole body felt like it had lost something the moment he stepped back. What was this damn flippant feeling in her stomach? She hadn't eaten anything unusual. Unless it was Hagrid's tea. It had tasted fine…

Suddenly, Hermione sat upright, wide eyed and horror stricken. In a sigh of breath she declared in dismay, "I'm in love."

Draco stalked down the corridor, not sure of where he was heading. Then it struck him, he knew where he'd go. It was on a whim the old man was available at the moment, so he'd take advantage of that of course.

knock knock knock

No reply.

knock knock

Again nothing.

KNOCK KNOCK

This time he heard an angry voice calling from behind the thick oak door, "Go away dammit! I'm in no mood!"

Draco's reply was to make another sequence of harsh knocks before calling back, "Open up old man! You're never in any mood, so what difference does it make?"

It was another moment's wait, before he felt the wards lowered and watched as Moody opened the door.

Walking in, Draco took a seat at a small table riddled with parchment and books. It seemed Moody was working on something, as the chair across from where he now sat seemed to be the one the man was in moments before.

"Come on in, make yourself at home in my rooms." Moody said sarcastically as he limped over to sit across from the apparently upset blonde boy.

"Thank you, I will." Draco assured smugly, as he slouched a little, something he hardly did unless he was really trying to piss someone off.

Moody's eyes rolled, the magical one went around a couple times before coming to rest. "So, what seems to be the problem?" he asked, waving a hand to clear the tabletop of his evening's work.

"She's talking about revenge. In fact, she's already decided on it… says she doesn't care if she dies, so long as she takes Lestrange down first." he spat out incredulous at the idea.

If Draco had expected Moody to sympathize or tell him what to do, he was sorely mistaken, as the old Auror began to laugh. "What did you expect?" he continued laughing.

"I thought she'd be a bit smarter than that!" he bit out.

More laughter.

"Listen old man, you want to tell me what's so damn funny about all this?" he asked rather seething.

"Well, it's hardly unexpected. Where do you think so much of her determination comes from? From the day she realized she might actually be able to become a fighter she's been thinking about using it all against those Death Eaters. I'm not sure she knew she was thinking it right away, but she obviously is now."

"Why don't you seem the least bit concerned? She'll get herself killed!" he barked, not liking how the man made everything sound so mundane and simple.

Moody roared with laughter at this, "I'm sure that'll happen." his voice almost dripping with as much sarcasm as Draco's would be if he were complimenting a Weasley.

Draco gaped at him, "Are you kidding me? How can you be so dismissive about it all? Was it not you preaching how any lack in focus would lead to death? Is this not a complete lack in focus?" he reasoned.

Moody paused a moment, "Are you telling me that if she messes up, you won't be there to save her?"

Opening his mouth to reply, he found he had nothing to say, and closed it.

"Exactly." Moody concluded. This was not the end of it though. All Moody was really doing was reiteration some of young man's thoughts, so he could eventually sort everything out for himself.

"But, if my focus is making sure Hermione is safe, then won't we both just end up getting killed?" he shot back, finally finding his train of logic.

It was then Moody waved his hand again and conjured a bottle of brandy and two glasses. As he poured the first round he replied, "That is true. So, how do you fix that?"

Several glasses later, Moody was perfectly content, while Draco was completely pissed. He had to give it the boy though, he hid it well. Entirely composed, seemingly on balance as well. But, he was still a boy with a low tolerance.

"How can I make her understand though?" he asked for the tenth time.

"Merlin boy, you're trying my patience. Why don't you go and confess to her, shock her out of all coherent thought, that ought to do the trick." Moody said sarcastically.

"Th'as brilliant." Draco slurred slightly, as he stood quickly, with a renewed determination.

Moody practically had to jam his fist in his mouth to keep from roaring with laughter. The Slytherin never ceased to amuse him. Far be it from him to stop the two love birds. If anything, it was about damn time. If they were closer than friends, they could only work better as partners. While there remained a liability of putting each other first and foremost, they were coming along so well, they might not meet a threat which would impose such a situation on them. Besides, he could use the added entertainment of the debacle which would ensue from Malfoy's drunken declaration of love to his former nemesis.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

**It's official!**

"Bloody wanker!" Draco hissed, knowing it wasn't a good idea to raise his voice any higher. Moody would pay for last night.

The Slytherin hadn't even opened his eyes yet, and his anger was flaring already. It was a few moments later that he registered his surroundings, if not by sight at first, then by feel. It felt like the couch in the Head's common room. The air was chill, probably from an open window and dead fire. Yet, he was pleasantly warm. Oh, that was just Hermione, snuggled up beneath him, still sleeping soundly… 'WHAT?' his mind roared, trying to recall how he ended up here.

Dammit, it would take too long to get his memory back this way. Carefully extricating himself from their entangles limbs, Draco made his way into the bathroom. At least he didn't have to make a visit to Pomfrey for an alleviating Hangover Potion.

As soon as he downed the vile lime green liquid, the foggy haze began to lift. Indeed, he could open his eyes to the dim rays of light and he was sure he wouldn't reel in pain at anything louder than a pin drop.

Now, as he let the hot water blast forth from the shower head, he tried to recall whatever drunken escapades he may have had.

He'd come barging in to the common room. With a passionate determination, and as Hermione asked what he was up to… he faltered to remember. Getting drunk was a cruel joke on Moody's part, oh sure it would be funny as hell in a year or two, if they lived that long, but as Draco remembered the events of last night, he seethed in anger. Moody would pay, he'd have his revenge on the old man.

Revenge. That one word triggered a whole mess of images, and every detail replayed through his now sober mind.

"Hermione!" he called, raising one hand and pointing to her, he again faltered for what was supposed to come next. Some where between thinking the words and saying them, much was being lost.

"Yes, I'm Hermione." she said giving him a incredulous glance while speaking sarcastically.

"Bloody Gryffindors, think your so funny don't you, always have witty comebacks." he spoke to himself, except instead of the intended mumble it was just short of a shout. As he walked, staggering slightly, over to the couch he watched as Hermione's eyes widened.

"You're drunk!" she cried out, sounding furious.

Draco stopped abruptly, "Shh!" he called, raising a finger to his lips, and crouching suddenly. Looking right and left around the room, as though someone was about to attack. Hermione seemed to forget about everything and became wary all of sudden, trying to search for what might be the danger he had sensed. It was then Draco's face broke in to a grin, "Do you hear that?" he asked.

"No. What is it?" she asked, still looking around, concerned.

It was then Draco let out a chuckle, "Don't look now, but I think you may be right!" he cried as he fell to his knees laughing, clutching his stomach.

"What?" now Hermione seemed to be a complete loss.

"I am drunk!" he roared, unable to stop laughing.

A smacking noise was heard as Hermione slapped a hand to her own head, not believing the predicament she was now in.

As Draco began to calm down some, he watched as the girl sulkily threw herself onto the couch.

"Great!" she huffed angrily, folding her arms across her chest. "I have a serious matter to discuss with you and you come to me completely shit faced!"

Again Draco roared with laughter, and pointed at Hermione like she had just done the most astounding thing, "You cursed!" he cried between fits.

"Oh, bloody hell!" she exclaimed, truly being put in a frantic mood.

This was apparently not the right thing to say, as it made Draco burst out yet again. The Slytherin had never laughed so much in his entire life.

Crawling over to her, he used her knees to rest on, still sitting on the floor. "I have something 'serious', to discuss with you too… too, too." he said, quickly seeming to become more and more bleary.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione replied, "I'm sure, it must be terribly dire if it can only be said while you're drunk."

He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to retain whatever control he had, so he slowly climbed up onto the couch beside Hermione. Once he was sitting up, he felt his head clear slightly, but it didn't last long. Blinking he turned to Hermione, who just watched him expectantly.

Reaching over, he gathered her to him, and slid her onto his lap. Oh, how his little Gryffindor blushed at that.

"Draco?" she questioned, blushing furiously, though not because she was sitting the Slytherin's lap, but because she was sitting in the lap of her sexy partner whom she just realized she was in love with.

"I'm in love with you." he said, causing the little kitten to freeze and go rigid, he didn't bother to stop though, he had to say everything quickly, "And you can't kill Lestrange, because you're too innocent, and I love that about you. And you can't die…" his head fell back and rested against the back of the couch while his eyes drifted shut, but his hold around her remained firm, "… because it'd kill me too. Bloody Pothead with his hands all over you… murder the Weasel if he even so much as…" the rest of his thought wasn't finished as he did slip into unconsciousness, which would explain why everything after that was blank.

Again the hard thudding of Draco's head against the nearest wall resounded through the room. While Draco banged his head, an even greater need to wring Moody's neck arose.

Draco was a Malfoy however, raised to face anything with composure. Whether he felt embarrassed or completely insecure about what happened last night, he'd face Hermione as though he wasn't. This was not some kiss they could ignore or classify as sexual tension. This was s drunken confession, more than plain to see it had been his true feelings and not easily smoothed over.

When he walked quietly out into the common room, he found Hermione still asleep on the couch. Part of him wanted to use this as an excuse and just go to the Great Hall for breakfast, without sorting things out, but he didn't work that way. Sitting down beside her again, he caught the faint aroma of lavender. 'Wait a minute…' his mind alerted cautiously. Her hair was wet, and her clothes were changed.

Just as he processed what all that meant, Hermione had sprung to life and jumped at him.

Laughing, she taunted, "Gottcha! You have no idea how fast I had to take my shower to make it back here in time."

Over powering her, he replied from above, in his usual Slytherin tone, "You should have joined me!"

'Shit!' he thought as he watched her blush. A fine come back for any other time, just not the morning after a confession.

Well, it was out there. He couldn't just obliviate her mind and pick up his subtle wooing where he'd left it. Now he was going to do this his way, not how he thought Hermione would prefer it, so he leaned down, slowly. As he heard Hermione's breathing become more shallow, he gave an inward smile, before quickly capturing her lips.

Slowly, and hesitantly, the little princess relaxed and gave over. Soon, they were both an entangled lock of bodies, kissing madly. While his hands itched to roam her, he kept them in place. Breaking away, both breathless, both with flushed cheeks, Draco spoke, "What I said last night, it still stands." he paused, watching he emotions play in her eyes, "Do you love me?" he asked, masking the hopeful desperation he was now feeling.

'Oh he just had to ask' Hermione thought. As it was, she had just come to the conclusion yesterday. Confessing her feelings had never crossed her mind, but then after Draco admitted he felt the same way, she'd spent the night in turmoil. Debating whether it was a good choice or not. But, any consequences had flown from her head, when he leaned down and kissed her again.

Breaking away again, his grey eyes searched her honey brown ones with need. Faintly he heard her whisper, "Yes". His eyes widened slightly, betraying the emotion behind them.

Hermione raised her head up, and whispered into Draco's ear, "I'm in love with you."

As if the warm breath against his ear wasn't enough to send a shiver of pleasure down his spine, when the words sunk in, he felt an overwhelming surge of happiness within. How could such a simple phrase mean so much, it was ridiculous. And yet, he couldn't deny to beating of his heart and the strong emotions that came from her whispered reply.

If his Gryffindor Princess was truly in love with this Slytherin Prince, then it would stand to reason that he could do this…all day…

Draco had begun kissing Hermione again, pinning her down beneath him, deciding they wouldn't leave the dormitory all day. They didn't need to eat, right now he needed to feel her there, pliant underneath his body. The feel of her fingers entwined in his hair, clasping behind his neck and pulling him to her. Her soft lips, becoming swollen and red from devouring them.

Moving his mouth lower, Draco trailed soft kisses from her lips to her jaw and down her neck. It was here he stopped, and he began to suckle, marking her. Hermione squirmed beneath him, trailing her hands over his back. She loved the feel of his well toned muscles, but she thought it might feel even better if he wasn't wearing his shirt. So, she found the hem and pulled the material up.

It would seem his little innocent princess had been waiting for this about as long as him. He was more than pleased to know she didn't seem to have any qualms about where this was going. And he wasn't stupid enough to ask, since the feel of her nails raking across his back was causing him to lose controlled thought.

While a small part of her mind shouted that this wasn't right, she wasn't ready. The rest of her was on fire, proving that as long as it was Draco giving her the hickie, she didn't care how far they went. She didn't have time to ponder over why something she'd formerly thought should be so treasured was no obstacle at the moment. Maybe, it was because she was in love. Maybe it was because of the unbelievably sexy body he had… perhaps a bit of both.

In an effort of become closer, Hermione's leg opened and allowed Draco to rest on her. There was a flutter and wave of heat as she felt something hard against her stomach. Unable to resist, her hips bucked slightly, earning a muffled groan from Draco as he moved on from her clearly marked neck to her chest.

As he unbuttoned her shirt, and slipped his hand under her bra she again felt an intense need for greater friction against her lower region. Bucking again, and causing Draco to growl this time, "vixen" he hissed hot breath against her exposed breast.

Not sure whether that was a good thing or not, Hermione tried to rear her impulses. As Draco lowered his head to her breast, flicking a tongue over her hardened nipple, she moaned loudly at the pleasure she felt from it. Again her hips bucked, seemingly in vain, until Draco returned her action. This gave her the friction she'd been seeking, as she felt his solid veiled member rub against her. A moan, the likes of which she would have been mortified at under more rational circumstances, escaped her. "Ah… Draco!" she called his name, unable to keep her voice in.

It was then, Draco sat back slightly. An immediate lack of heat between where they had just been joined. Hermione saw his eyes were dark with lust and something else she couldn't put her finger on.

Hearing her cry out in such a sweet and lust filled voice had sent him over the edge. There was no holding back now, he wanted her too badly, needed her too badly. However, the couch of their common room was not sufficient.

Standing, Draco swiftly swept Hermione up in his arms, and proceeded to make his way to his bedroom.

No sooner had his foot reached the first step, than a loud knock came from the stone wall which served as the Head's dormitory door.

"Malfoy! Granger! Get a move on it, we meet at headquarters in fifteen!" came Moody's all too familiar bark.

Draco was stunned into silence. This wasn't happening. He was about to have sex with the only person he'd ever loved or desired so deeply and now they had to stop for a bloody meeting! This wasn't fair!

His body shook with anger as he gently set Hermione down. He did feel slightly better upon seeing a disappointment in her eyes which seemed to mirror his own. They didn't have very long. As Hermione fixed her clothes, a blush on her cheeks upon registering just how exposed she really was, Draco swept off across the common room. Hermione knew he was making his way to their bathroom, but when she realized what it was for she blushed and felt a little responsible, so she foolishly called to his retreating back, "Do you want me to uhh…" her face grew even more red, and she was glad his back was turned, "…help?" she finished, wanting to put a paper bag over her face and hide.

Draco's step faltered, he didn't turn around. He _couldn't _turn around, because if he did and he found the little Gryffindor standing there with her flushed cheeks of brazen embarrassment and swollen lips he'd just been touching, he'd snap. If he turned around, he knew they wouldn't stand a chance of making it to that Order meeting, and while he wanted to murder Moody at this point, he hadn't failed to detect a slight note of urgency in the man's gruff voice. "How kind of you to offer." he forced out, trying to mask desire under sarcasm, and doing so a little too well, he didn't want to make her upset. He couldn't help it though, it was his way to use harsh words to cover up emotions, "But, I'm afraid that if you wank me off, I'd end up screwing you into the pristine tiling of the floor." he bit out, far harsher than he wanted. 'Damn Moody!' his mind yelled again. Now, he was channeling anger out on Hermione.

For a brief moment, Hermione felt down trodden. But then, she sighed and giggle lightly in dawning understanding. Having become accustom to the many subtle moods of Malfoy, she knew when he was speaking harshly to cover something up. Obviously, in a frustration matching her own, he had declined her clumsy offer. Now, she relished in the idea that Draco desired her so badly that he lost control, or at least implied he would.

Twelve minutes and thirty four seconds later, two very flustered and upset teens arrived outside of 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Ah, please take a seat. Now that you're here, we can begin." Dumbledore welcomed them.

Surprisingly, it seemed a full meeting had been called. It was rare for Dumbledore to make such a request, too dangerous to have everyone in the same room. But, here they were, all key members. Hermione's eyes lit up as she found both Harry and Ron sitting beside Mr. Weasley. Catching their attention she smiled, before following Draco to sit down.

Between Remus and Moody were two seats beside each other, which Draco and Hermione took. It seemed Draco had made a point to steer nearer to Moody, taking his seat next to the man. As Hermione settled in beside Remus, she heard a stifled cry of pain come from Moody. Looking over, she saw a smug Draco crossing his arms and looking content, and an angry Moody who seemed to be nursing a hurt leg. No one else seemed to notice anything.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at this, drawing the attention of the werewolf right next to her.

"What's so amusing?" he asked in a quite whisper, as everyone had begun to bring their conversations to an end and it was becoming more quite in the large room.

"Nothing, professor." she replied, smiling back.

When Remus quirked a brow at her, knowing full well the sort of mischief she and all her friends tended to get into, she conceded, "I'll tell you later."

Everyone became silent once Dumbledore stood up and began the meeting. It seemed the atmosphere became oppressed as soon as everyone noticed the dull blue color of the old wizard's eyes. Where had the twinkle gone? Why did he seem so grave?

"I'll be frank." he started, "The final battle draws very near. And, I think now is the time to begin our plans."

"Plans?" Snape sneered, "Is that not what you'd call the past two years?"

Shaking his head, Dumbledore clarified, "I mean, we shall begin our strike."

Snape lost what little color he had, blanching at what Dumbledore was implying. Certainly, they had always presumed to let Voldemort begin the final attack, and end it with their victory. But, to strike first? They'd discussed this before, a year or so ago and threw it out the window.

"I believe there are circumstances which have changed." the Headmaster said, keeping Snape's eye.

While Snape fell quite, several eyes watching him, his mind worked trying to piece together what the old wizard was after. When it finally clicked, his head swiveled, directing his sight down the table and landing on the female golden child of the trio.

Giving a meek cough, Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Somehow it felt like every time she attended a meeting everyone ended up staring at her. She could feel Snape's beady little eyes boring into her.

Draco shifted as well, not liking how everyone, Snape mostly, was staring at Hermione. He casually and possessively draped an arm around her shoulders, glaring in turn at his Potions professor.

'This is ridiculous!' Hermione thought. "Care to clue us in, professor?" she directed to Snape, who only then looked away from her.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Albus, but do you mean to use the girl as bait?", he asked coolly.

"Not just any bait Severus." Dumbledore smiled softly, "Very clever and capable, bait." If he knew Hermione, then he knew she would have proposed this very idea herself had all the information been relayed to her.

Knowing she was being referred to as, 'bait' Hermione chimed in, "Alright, before we start dancing around any more, let's cut about an hour off of this meeting and have everything explained straight out."

A nod from several people told her she wasn't the only one sick to death of beating around the bush. It seemed all they ever did was play games at these meetings, it was sometimes a wonder they ever got anything done.

"If you don't mind Dumbledore, I'd like to take it from here, this is my specialty after all." Moody interceded.

With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore sat down and allowed Alastor to explain. It was best, since Alastor preferred to be frank and enjoyed all tactical discussions.

Moody didn't bother to stand up, but instead leaned forward and cleared his throat. "Alright, well, I think first I should mention to those of you who don't already know; With Hermione here being an Angelus and all, Voldemort's been in a frenzy to get his hands on her. Reports from the inside-" he gave a nod to Severus, "tell us, that after the little magical breach incident from the assignment a couple days ago, the Dark Lord has become restless. His sole objective is to get his hand on that power. While they haven't tried anything as of yet, Severus informs us that the Dark Lord will strike at any moment." he paused, to let the few who didn't know process the new information.

"What'll he use her for?" Remus asked. For the most part he was out of the loop, what with being off on assignments all the time.

"Not even the Dark Lord himself seems to know that one." Severus spat.

"Regardless of his intentions, he still wants to use her. Which means, if we give him an opportunity, he will take it. Thereby making the first move." Moody simplified the general idea, to cut time down as Hermione had mentioned.

Harry, who usually didn't speak much at what few meetings he attended, interjected, "So you want to use Hermione as a lure, so that Voldemort will make his move, and we can make ours!" It wasn't a question, it was an incredulous statement. The very idea outraged him, and he wouldn't stand for it.

"Not bloody likely!" Ron confirmed Harry's point of view.

It was at this point, voices broke out and arguments ensued. It would seem the room was divided, between those for the so far very general plan and those against it. Mrs. Weasley seemed to speak for her entire family by throwing the idea out the window. While most of the Aurors felt that in light of the opportunity it gave them, it was worth all risks.

Suddenly there was complete silence and for a few gaping moments everyone was stunned that their mouths were moving, but no sound was coming out.

"Sorry, slip of the hand." Draco apologized, with no remorse detectable in his voice, "I've got a bit of a hangover you see, can't take all the noise." he explained, throwing a deadly glare at Moody upon iterating 'hangover'. With a wave of his hand, the charm was lifted, and though their voices were returned, so to speak, no one spoke.

As he received angry looks from everyone, except Dumbledore who seemed amused, he remained cool and impassive, nudging Hermione in the shoulder. After all, he'd only done it because Hermione wanted to speak, but was too much of a goody-goody to do anything.

Hermione glanced up at Draco with a reprimanding, but also thankful, look. "umm, well, I think it's really my call here. I know Dumbledore and everyone else would never do this without my permission-" she was interrupted by a scoffing Snape. Sending a glare his way, wanting to rephrase and say, 'ok, so those of you with any balls wouldn't do this without my permission!' but she didn't, she continued with, "I'm up for it. Now, we need to start working on the details." she concluded, but upon hearing another roomful of arguing starting she cut back in, with a raised voice, "And if we can't even get this much settle, we have no hope of winning this war!"


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

**Don't Doubt or Fear For Me**

"That was daunting!" Hermione exclaimed as she and Draco took the slow way back to their common room.

Draco remained silent, not liking the rapid change of events this evening. Why did it feel like he had no control over anything anymore?

Falling silent again, Hermione perceived Draco to be in a more solemn mood than she'd originally thought. All humor and anecdotes would fall flat, so she didn't even bother. Instead she let him have his silence, but made a gesture in its place.

Stepping slightly closer, Hermione found Draco's hand and entwined her fingers with his. Draco faltered in his step and stopped abruptly. A pained expression coming across his face as he looked down at her.

Still, not saying anything, Hermione just smiled at him and gently squeezed his hand. It was then that something seemed to shatter, his mask fell entirely, and a raw emotion the likes of which she'd only seen Harry display, graced his features. Draco appeared terribly sad. It made Hermione want to cry, and while she wanted to speak up and ask what was wrong, she didn't.

Presently, she found herself pulled into a tight embrace. Draco was holding her, clinging desperately as though she'd disappear with the next breeze from an open window. She wanted to hug him back, but her arms were pinned to her and she could only remain still against him.

"Hey" she whispered softly, breaking the silence finally. "Mind telling me what's wrong?"

Draco broke away, as he'd been doing so often lately, and strode brusquely ahead. For his momentary lapse, he felt foolish. He let his guard down so completely in just that moment, because his heart felt so torn. 'Dammit!' he thought, wondering if it would be worth it to use magic and strip himself of all emotion. Lately his iron handed control over his feelings had slipped. Now, he was becoming as angst ridden as bloody Potter.

In Hermione's opinion she put up fairly well with all the moody antics. Being around Harry for six years had given her good practice, however she still didn't think it fitting for Malfoy to be the one with fluctuating emotions. Part of her now believe that it was because he was in love with her. From books to friends, Hermione had been told that love made people do crazy things and act differently. That was the case with them. For Hermione's part, she knew she had grown more bold and become more confident since being around Draco. And, for Draco's part, he had become less rough around the edges and on occasion, though only in her presence, shown a depth of his soul which no one else knew existed.

Again, inside their dormitory, where it seemed they spent so much of their time, Draco sat on the couch. Hermione was right in tow, and didn't hesitate evening upon flashing back to their little snog from earlier that day.

"What's wrong?" she asked, again, though determined this would be the final time, since she refused to make this an interrogation.

"You know damn well what's wrong." Draco snapped.

At this Hermione crossed her arms at her chest and gave him her most stubborn glare. "While I am said to know everything, I do not know what's got your panties in a twist." she stated flatly.

"I should think you would know by now that I wear boxers!" he retorted mindlessly. They were back to their banter, something they hadn't done for a while.

"Draco, what's the big deal? This is what we do now. We have a chance to end this." she reasoned.

"No!" he said firmly, "Things are different now." his voice had taken a deeper tone, almost a growl.

"What's changed?" she asked incredulously, "We've got training tomorrow morning. This new job is just like any other. Nothing is different, except the difficulty."

"It's not the same as before. This is more dangerous, and we've got more to lose." there was a desperate anger in him which he fought to hide. Bowing his head for a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache forming. He had to make her understand, "Hermione, things are different now, because I'm in love with you. This crack pot idea which is now a full scale operation, is too risky. This isn't some school house mystery off in Italy. This is Voldemort, who is now a desperate madman." Standing up swiftly, Draco paced closer to the empty hearth. With a wave of his hand flames erupted, a bit too strong at first, but they settled down. Turning back to an enraptured Hermione he almost pleaded, "Why can't you see how scared I am?"

During the pause which followed, Hermione didn't quite register his words right away. Once, she did though, she thought she ought to speak.

Was it true? Was, he, Draco Malfoy scared? Never in all that had happened before, was he _scared_. Why now? Was this love such an emotion to make a fierce and brave man cower? Sighing, Draco glance at her again, halting whatever reply she had coming. It was time he got a weight off his chest, a chain he'd been dragging for some time.

"I was never scared before. I don't think I even knew such an emotion." he admitted. "All my life, it's been 'mudblood' this and 'The Dark Lord' that. My father was a cold hearted bastard from day one!" he spat venomously. "I'm not sure which he put first in his life, Voldemort or himself… but it certainly wasn't myself or my mother." Again his eyes met hers, they were cold and distant, as if reliving the memories attached to his words, "I sometimes wonder where I would be if I never learned to think for myself. Would I still be spouting off outdated prejudices? Would I be bowing low and kissing the feet of his Dark Eminence? I try not to think about that, since it only reminds me how one event lead me down a different path."

Draco held his hands in front of himself, staring down at them, turning them over, "Do you know how it feels to have blood on your hands?"

While his meaning was quite clear, Hermione couldn't seem to accept what he was implying. Surely Draco had never killed someone before.

"His last words were, 'Truly my son.'." dropping his hands to his sides, he implored again with his eyes, for some understanding, "I thought it would be better, if I didn't use a wand… more fitting in an ironic justice sort of way, if I killed him in a more Muggle fashion. But, there was so much blood. I didn't think someone could have that much blood in them. Damn sword, it felt so heavy when I pulled it out of him, and the noise it made, I felt so sick."

She wanted to stop him, tell him she didn't need to know anything, that it was okay. But, she also knew that she was probably the first person he'd told willingly, and he needed to get this out there.

"I think the Malfoy name never burdened me so much as when I tried to hold that bloodied sword, it was from our family's coat of arms. He hadn't even given me the choice to take the Dark Mark. Gods he was furious when I refused him. I think it was when I gave him my refusal, that I signed my life over to Dumbledore. Where else could I go? What else could I have done?"

In a sudden fit, Draco reached for the nearest object and hurled it across the room, the vase from the mantle shattered as it hit the far wall. "For all his bloody worth!" Draco shouted, face darkening with anger, "He was still my FUCKING father! And I killed the bastard!"

"But you know what?" he asked, suddenly more calm, and looking at Hermione, "Not once, did I feel fear. Once he'd let out his last breath and I knew I had become hunted, I didn't feel a shred of worry." Eyes darting, as if searching for something before him to give him some answers, he asked her, "Why? Why am I so scared now?"

"Draco…" Hermione forced out, tears streaming down her face.

"If I lose you, I'll lose myself! I don't understand it, but at this point I don't care to. Hermione, I'm scared as hell that I might lose you! You can't do this, I need you here with me." he pleaded kneeling before her and taking her hands in his as she cried silently.

For as much as she wanted to console him, there was nothing she could say. She couldn't even begin to sympathize with him, though she suspected that would make things worse if she tried. He'd murdered his own father. In all her years of animosity, she never once thought the Slytherin capable of murder. That was her ignorance, something his confession was helping her quickly over come.

Knowing she couldn't offer comfort, but hoping his confession gave him some relief, she did the only thing which felt right. Hermione leaned down and kissed him, sniffing as she pulled back, "As long as you love me, you won't lose me." she whispered.

"Bullocks!" he cried, pulling her back to him and kissing her fiercely. "I want you here with me, where I can hold you and touch you!"

"I agreed to make the objective of this mission my focus, and not run off after Lestrange. But, I won't agree to now do _nothing_. If you won't give me my revenge, give me the satisfaction of doing my part and ending this war." she asked of him.

"And if I lose you?" he questioned.

"Are you doubting our ability? We'll be working together on this, and together we tend to kick some serious arse." she reminded him.

Each of their responses seemed to come between their kisses, which were lasting longer each time.

"That doesn't mean we won't fail." he reminded her, slowly losing his grasp on any controlled debating. Damn hormonal needs!

"Oh? Then I suppose it wasn't you there with me in that clearing, fending off a group of vampires. You can't be the Draco Malfoy I know, because he's such a cocky-self-righteous-thinks-he's-better-than-everybody-else-" her next stream was cut off by his mouth pressed to hers, but she grinned and managed to mumble in continuance, "arrogant-sexy-git that he'd never doubt his own ability." she finished.

Chuckling, amazed at how she managed to soothe anything over, he provoked, "So you think I'm sexy?"

"Did I say sexy?" she asked, wrapping her arms about his neck, "I meant stuck-up-Slytherin-jerk-" Again she was stopped and gave off a surprised yelp as Draco picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

"So the Gryffindor wants to play does she?" he asked, spinning about while she dangled upside down. When he finally set her down, she was slightly disoriented, making it all the easier to pin her against the wall and give her a good feel up.

Just when she seemed to regain her senses, Draco sent them reeling again as he touched her. It wasn't long before they were both shirtless, and picking up where they'd left off that morning. Standing up, however, Hermione realized they didn't press against each other as satisfyingly as when they were laying down. Her body wanted that friction, she wanted to feel him pressed against her, she wanted him inside her.

"Draco" she spoke breathlessly, still so unused to the way her body felt around him. Prior to Draco, she'd never done more than a soft kiss. Now, she found herself almost primal in her need to go so much further. She cried out in a moan as he found a particular sensitive spot on her neck. His answer was a lusty growl, not quite able to form coherent words at the moment.

As her legs spread, her knee lifted to his waist. The message was clear, as he hoisted her up, against the wall. Now as both her legs wrapped around him, she received a far more pleasurable angle, which she'd been searching for.

Hips bucking, she whimpered softly as a shudder ran through her. Groaning, Draco hissed, "vixen". Since this wasn't the first time he'd called her that, she picked up on the fact that it was because she'd done something he liked immensely. So, she bucked again, but more so for him than herself.

Pulling away abruptly, which was something Hermione was going to start complaining about if he kept it up, Draco set her down. Grabbing her hand he pulled her to him again, to pick her up. "Your fate is sealed, you're mine for the taking." he whispered in her ear as he carried her to the stairs. On the long shot chance that the first step happened to be jinxed, he skipped it all together, knowing he couldn't stand for any more interruptions.

Though his room was the closest and only a single flight up, he felt as though his door couldn't come into view soon enough. He had Hermione in his arms, and no sooner had he scooped her up than she decided to torture him with gentle nipping at his neck. Merlin, he felt his body losing control. This need he felt, was overpowering. As he approached the door, Hermione made a point to nip his earlobe, and tease him with her tongue. 'Gods above!' his mind cried as he almost lost all patience and took her right on the stairs. 'Where did she learn that from?' His Slytherin and teenage mind could only smirk inwardly as he concluded that she was simply a natural when it came to pleasure. Merlin, the things he would teach her.

While he fought for resistance and to keep some patients, which he _always_ had, he finally reached his door. The door opened easily, though like the flames in the hearth, he was a bit forceful in his magic and it slammed against the wall with a bang.

Hermione found his mouth again, fervently kissing him. That sweet woodsy scent which she had come to find so appealing about Draco seemed to have overwhelmed her and set her body on fire. She wanted him so badly, needed him, to have his hands on her, to have her hands on him. She barely noticed the transition between being carried and laying back on his bed, while he towered above her.

As Draco positioned himself, between her legs, he lowered his head to hers, again claiming her lips. He could get so used to this. These soft plush lips, they were only meant for him to touch, no other man. He had never been one to share anything, being an only child.

His hand caressed its' way down, outlining the ample curve of her breast, causing her to squirm. Lower, to the soft flat surface of her stomach. Just beneath her navel, tracing the band of her pants around the waist. This caused a shudder to run through her, and he grinned, knowing he wasn't the only one losing control.

"Please" she called to him, as he groped her breast and teased her by lightly dipping his hand under the waist line.

"Please what?" he purred in return, unbuttoning her jeans with a practiced movement.

Though it was far too late to be asking, since he doubted he could stop if she refused, he asked her anyway, "Do you want this?"

"Yes." she breathed, never more certain of anything.

Having unbuttoned her pants, he proceeded to move down to the cuffs at her ankles and pull the denim material off, revealing her smooth shapely legs. Seeing her so bared just chopped all the more at his patience, so it was swiftly and with deft hands that he removed her of her only remaining undergarment.

His little Gryffindor was throwing all his plans out the window as he found himself unable to tear his eyes away, and in the next moment he felt like he'd go insane if he didn't have her in his arms right then. So, he moved to her side quickly and pulled her to him, relishing the feel of her chest against his. Breathing in the lavender scent of her hair, he claimed her mouth, tasting her sweet lips. What he wouldn't give to freeze this moment and simply live in the feel of her naked body pressed to him.

"I hardly think this fair." she purred, so seductively in his ear, while her hand mimicked his and teased him softly just above his pants, slowly dipping and nearly causing him to appear as inexperienced as he was beginning to feel. He might cum right there if she didn't stop.

Crushing his mouth to hers, he explored her mouth with a renewed vigor, not relenting until she was breathless, with her pert breasts heaving. In that time he'd kept her consumed enough to not notice him undress himself. Gently he stroked her with his fingers. It was he who moaned as he felt how wet and ready she was, which was only a reflection of his own leaking member, telling him he needed to take her now. He knew there was little preparation he could do for her, as a virgin he could spend all night gently and slowly stretching her, but it would still hurt just as much when he entered her.

Now as he knew neither of them wanted to prolong this, he sat up between her legs and looked down at her. Soft golden brown curls spread about out beneath her head, on his pillow. It was perhaps each and every time they'd fallen asleep next to each other that he'd fallen harder and harder for her.

As she lift her legs, bending her knees and spreading in anticipation, Draco leaned down and softly, almost chastely touched his lips to hers. "I love you." he whispered. It was then he directed his throbbing member into her. She was wet and so ready as he eased in. Her eyes widened and she winced as he met resistance. So ready, yet so tight. Pushing further, he broke through, and just waited while she adjusted to him.

After a moment, her body relaxed again, becoming more comfortable, though entirely senseless at the knowledge that Draco's cock was now inside her. "I love you too." she whispered. The mere thought sent trills of pleasure through her, and as the trills became shudders she realized Draco was now thrusting into her.

Shallow at first, it didn't take long for the feel to become so pleasurable she didn't care if there was a dull throbbing pain. Longer, thrusts, she began to meet him half way, lifting her hips off the bed.

Though they really had no one to hide from, since no one could hear them while they were in their dorm room, Hermione was afraid to cry out and express aloud just how she felt. So, she brought a hand to her mouth, and stifled her cries by biting down on her fingers.

"No." Draco said, pulling her hand away from her mouth, "Let me hear you." he commanded.

What did it matter if she called out, at this point, she just wanted… "Ahh.." she moaned as Draco dropped a hand to massage her clit. "Harder! Please!"

Draco had been using all of what little control was left, to not go too hard, but once he heard her half dazed plea, that single word spilling with lust from those red lips, he couldn't stop. He gave it to her, thrusting harder and faster, delving as deep as he could possibly go. It didn't take long before Hermione clenched around him, as he pump furiously, driving deeper.

A small whimper escaped her mouth as she rode the orgasm out. It was then she felt a warm juices fill her, as Draco came inside her. Slowly they came to a halt, riding out their orgasms till the very end.

Swallowing hard, Draco gazed down at his alluring lioness, her skin glowing with her sweaty antics. "You're beautiful" he thought aloud.

"And that was amazing." she replied.

Chuckling at the unexpected sex drive of this Gryffindor princess, he pulled out of her and lay down beside her. Again, he pulled her up against him, this time her back to him. With his arms wrapped around her middle, he held her close, leaving a few final kissing against the back of her neck before nuzzling it. Drained, they drifted off to sleep, more soundly than ever, listening to each other's breathing, and depending on the position, each other's heartbeat.

Hot water blast forth, pelting a soothing warmth over Hermione's skin as she stood under the showerhead. With her eyes closed, she let the water splash against her face, as her hair became sodden and lengthened in to dark auburn strands. It had been with a flushing cringe that she slowly made her way out of Draco's bedroom, where he lay sleeping. The soreness she felt was her cause for her blushing and pained cringe. Though, she not embarrassed, more elated really.

It had been with some reluctance she left the blonde Auror, laying there in all his well toned Slytherin-Sex-God glory. Oddly enough, one of the many muscle relieving potions she'd been taking since the start of her physically demanding training with Moody had been just what she needed for a similar, but all together different soreness issue.

Briefly she wondered if she would be constituted as a slut for enjoying their escapades last night as much as she did. But, reason told her that wasn't true. In fact, she concluded, it would be odd if she didn't enjoy it as much, since Draco was undeniably hot and she was totally in love with him.

A familiar arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back slightly.

"Morning" she greeted, as a very much naked Slytherin trailed kissed over her neck and down her shoulders.

Feeling him pressed against her from behind, she knew just how this rest of this shower was going to play out.

Draco seemed to make good on his earlier promise, that is of screwing her into the pristine tiling of the bathroom floor.

Sometime later, a very much satiated couple emerged from the bathroom, not at all looking forward the a renewed training session with Moody, but content nonetheless.

Moody seemed to have an urgent atmosphere as he barked orders at them left and right. They'd started with the basics again, a review of what should be automatic. Half the day carried on with flying brooms and duels danced in flash step. And, while Moody was rather pleased that these basic skills were imprinted deeply, he pushed on.

In a four days time, just before Hogwarts opened for school, they were to set their plan in motion. So, while Draco was sent to run laps, Hermione was made to hone her abilities more. The shield was simple, so was healing. The release of her wings, still proved most difficult and this time there was no kitten in her head to guide her along or give her a jump start. But, she eventually managed it, and when she felt she needed a break, Moody didn't relent. Instead he began an attack, not giving her a moment's notice or rest.

The day wore on in the same manner. Exercise after exercise. Attack after attack. Only, every time Hermione thought she might falter and stop for lack of breath, Draco was there to fend Moody off, much to the old Auror's dislike. He kept barking at Draco to do more laps, adding more on every time he came to Hermione's side.

It was dusk when they finally took a break. Dripping with sweat and breathing heavily, Hermione and Draco sprawled out on the grass, while Dobby tended to various scrapes and bruises and offered water.

Someone… no a couple of someone's were approaching. As they drew nearer, Hermione didn't even have to lift her head to know who it was. Harry and Ron stood before them, casting elongated shadows over them. The sun was still bright, barely touching the horizon, so even with their shadows, Hermione had to squint as she looked up at them.

A tired wave of her hand was most the greeting she could muster, before dropping her hand down and taking another deep breath.

Ron bent down, looking concerned, "Are you alright?"

Before she could force herself to reply, Draco answered for her, "She's fine Weasley." it would seem even after all those laps, he still had energy left to be his old Slytherin self.

"Sleep" Hermione mumbled as she rolled to her side, not even caring she was in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

Smirking to himself, Draco sat up, hardly able to control all his suppressed devilish urges, "Come on love, there is no rest for the wicked." he said endearingly, as he stood and offered her a hand.

Hermione's eyes shot open and she suddenly found the energy needed to get moving. Throwing Draco a reprimanding glare, she stood and smiled at Harry and Ron, who both now regarded Malfoy with suspicion.

"Harry, how were your lessons today?" she asked, crossing her fingers in hopes they didn't take Draco seriously.

"Rather productive actually." Harry sighed, giving her a weary smile of his own. It was hard playing mental games with Dumbledore all day long.

"Let's go eat, I'm starving." Ron complained, choosing to ignore that when he included them as a group, Malfoy was invariably a part of that.

As they walked back, Hermione made the small talk, afraid that if she didn't fill the silence, Draco would, and he wouldn't do it with any appropriate means. "Was your mom okay with you and Ginny being gone so long?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders, "She threw a fit at first, but when we reminded her that we were at Hogwarts the whole time, she eased up."

"Are you really going to go through with this?" Harry blurted out, apparently it had been nagging him since the meeting the other day.

"Yes." Hermione answered simply.

With a fierce and concerned stare from Harry, she waited until he found what he wanted within her eyes. The obvious determination and confidence must have been enough reassurance, for he simply nodded and dropped it all together. Ron and Harry had been the most difficult to convince at the meeting. In fact, they hadn't actually convinced them, but rather excluded their arguments and moved on.

The four of them entered the Great Hall to eat what ominously felt like one of few meals they had left to eat together.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

**They Have Giants, We Have Vampires**

It felt as though their harsh day of training was a wake up call. Draco and Hermione were more set in the idea that in four days time, they'd be executing what would hopefully be the final battle.

There wasn't much free time for them to ponder the intricacies of the scheme. A rather generalized version had been drawn up the previous evening, at headquarters. Basically, in order for Voldemort to make a move, Hermione had to be vulnerable. The problem presented with trying to make her open for attack, was that after the murder of her parents' it would be suspicious if she wasn't under constant surveillance and guard.

What Voldemort didn't know, was the training Hermione had been undergoing. The Dark Lord also didn't know much about Draco's condition, except that the boy had killed one of his more loyal followers and run off to Dumbledore for protection. Right now though, Draco was not his concern.

Snape's reports told them that Voldemort was obsessed with getting his hands on Hermione's power, which meant that even if there was suspicion surrounding the set up, the dark wizard would most likely take the chance. There was an arrogance about Riddle which he had always carried. If the twisted creature of a man felt like there might be a trap, he'd go ahead anyway, thinking there was no way he could be stopped.

The basic scheme was for Hermione to visit her parents' graves. As it was, the stone markers had been placed just recently in their family plot, though no bodies were actually buried, owning to their sad end and destruction. The visit was plausible, since the young girl would have her sentimental muggle attachments to her dead mother and father, and she'd surely push to say a last farewell.

Obviously, they couldn't let her go without an escort, that would just scream 'set up'. So, they once again would use the services of Severus Snape. Because Hermione was staying at Hogwarts, there would be few people she would have interactions with. Severus Snape would be one of them, and it would make sense to have him, as her teacher and formidable fighter, guard her.

With Snape in place, this gave a deceitful opportunity for Voldemort to step in. After all Snape was a Death Eater.

Hermione would take a trip to the muggle world, with Severus Snape as her only protection.

While everyone had their doubts, this was a great chance for them to become offensive stance and make a lethal blow.

During their dinner, Harry explained a little about what he had been up to lately. It wasn't that there was some big secret about it, but for his own pride he felt like he wanted to master his lessons before speaking about it with anyone. Besides, there had been enough conversation fillers with the recent developments in Hermione's life.

Harry's lessons with Dumbledore were mental training and building control. Dumbledore had spoken with him, telling him there was a force inside of him which he had yet to even tap in to. The only trouble was, if Harry did somehow release this pent up source of magic, he would have no control over it. But, his lessons were coming along well, as he had truly buckled down and focused.

It wasn't just a lack of nighttime horrors, which was invariably the result of honed skills in occlumency, but a feeling of calm during the day as well. And with the overall conclusion that the final battle was mere days away, he was pushing himself even further. It was his fate to kill Voldemort, and everyone knew that.

After dinner, there was an Order meeting. This time, only a handful of members were in attendance, and they spent the time covering every minute detail involved in the their scheme.

To Hermione, she couldn't wait to get out of there. The day had been so taxing, and her body wanted sleep, before another day of training. Not to mention, Draco had been groping her thigh, and half way through the meeting while she smiled innocently up at the other members, she was hot and bothered and ready to jump the Slytherin right there.

Finally, Hermione slept deeply, in much the same manner as the night before. She was curled up against Draco, both naked and exhausted from a final draining of energy after making love.

If Hermione thought Moody couldn't work them any harder, she was sorely mistaken. The next day on the Quidditch pitch, she and Draco arrived to a smug looking group of Aurors. Cody and Tearnogh, who Hermione had previously been surprised to meet at an Order meeting, stood beside Tonks. There was one other whom they didn't recognize, but assumed to be an Auror also.

Naturally, without explanation, Moody attacked, not even allowing for a warm up. Hermione and Draco were horribly overpowered when three of them came at once.

But, the time wore on, through magic spells and a lot of physical movement. They never left the pitch, though they were all over it, from one end to the other in the blink of an eye. Each Auror was mildly surprised at the ease Hermione and Draco managed to use flash step. But, they were more experienced and able to keep them on the defense most of the time.

After a short bit, Hermione made a faltering stand still, leaving herself open for a fraction of a second too long. As though they were sharks drawn to blood, Tonks, Cody, and Samson leapt at the chance. This proved erroneous on their part, as they were repelled back in a painful shockwave, and met with a sudden change of tactics as Hermione and Draco switched to the offensive.

A silent communication had transpired somewhere, and the two rookies had managed to gain some ground. It was upon seeing this that Moody smiled and called a halt to everything.

Breathless, Hermione and Draco drank and ate gratefully the food Dobby had brought them.

But again, Moody barked that there was no rest for the wicked, and they resumed their little practical training, with four against two this time. Tearnogh was next to join, while Moody, who had initially been attacking sat back and studied. They listened as he would bark orders, or reprimand them for something done wrong.

Their day finished with an amazing stale mate. Where they had started off barely able to keep up their own defense and dodge hexes and punches, they ended with an equalized balance between blocking kicks and spells, and giving them.

The meeting that night was a bit unsettling. Those present included; Moody, the Headmaster, Tonks, Remus, Arthur, Snape, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione.

Snape was rather worked up, which in itself was frightening, since the Potions Master never displayed any emotion other than his anger and loathing of all Gryffindors.

Attentively, Hermione sat listening to Snape as he ranted about a change of events. The Giants and Dementors were at Voldemort's beck and call, and he had revealed just how grand his army of magical legions was last night. Most of the Death Eaters didn't have a clue, only the inner circle, which Snape was not among, so he was not aware until now.

"This changes nothing." Moody stated, hardly intimidated by a group of oversized trolls and undead prison guards.

The look on Dumbledore's face was very grave, but the news was nothing but expected to him, so as Moody had put it, 'it changed nothing'.

While they discussed ways in which to hide the presence of all the Order members and ministry forces, who they had silently contacted, Hermione's mind wandered. She knew her part. It was her job to act the damsel in distress and then strike with all her might. How everyone else was going to show up was their business. Her mind couldn't be weighed down with everyone else's job, she needed her focus.

She noticed Draco had become rather solemn and brooding. His mind seemed to be working rapidly and his brows were furrowed in deep thought.

As the meeting came to a close, Draco remained seated, and made no move to leave. When Hermione gave him a questioning glance, he simply gave her a reassuring smirk and shook his head slightly.

She knew this was some sort of dismissal for her to depart without him, but she was stubborn and crossed her arms, waiting for him to get up.

Dumbledore, having noticed Draco's behavior as well, remained sitting, since the boy apparently wanted a word with him. Miss Granger however, seemed rather adamant in staying also, as she stood firmly and expectantly.

Much to everyone's surprise, if not utter shock, Draco stood up and went to Hermione, kissing her gently on the forehead and whispering in her ear. For a moment she didn't seem to register everyone's presence and acted as though it were a common occurrence. But when she did realize their surroundings, her cheeks flamed. The flush only deepened when she was forced to give a small nod of agreement to whatever Draco had spoken, and have him publicly claim her mouth right there in front of everyone.

A gruff cough from Moody broke the shocked silence. Harry and Ron's mouths were gaping, along with Remus and Snape's. Dumbledore had an extremely amused smile across his face, and the twinkle which his eyes he had so recently been lacking was back and sparkling more than ever.

While Hermione fought not to bury her head in embarrassment, Draco deepened his kiss, forcing everything from her mind, but the feel of his lips and teasing of his tongue. Not even Moody's interrupting cough made it through. Feeling a light squeeze on her butt, she resisted the urge to do anything more.

"Now they know" he whispered again, only so she could hear, after they broke away slightly breathless. "I won't be back tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

It was a terrible explanation, one which she wouldn't accept had it not been for the pleading look in his eyes. So, she frowned and reluctantly accepted going back alone. But, not before she gave him as good as she got. Standing on the tips of her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. Kissing him deeply, she sucked his bottom lip and sought entrance to his mouth, which he gave without hesitation. Just as she felt his hands begin an automatic trail down her body, she gently and subtly moved her leg, pressing her hip against him, and earning a groan.

Smirking, she pulled back, and whispered, "I'll be in your bed, waiting. If you don't come back before training on the pitch, we won't be able to do our morning exercises."

Body on fire, Draco wanted to curse everyone to hell and take her on the table right then and there. And the fact that his little innocent princess had just made a blatant innuendo only heightened the drive she incited within him. As if he needed any more motivation to hurry back just to be at her side, now she'd gotten him riled up.

Turning from him, Hermione did her best to remain calm upon seeing the shocked stares from everyone. Moody had chosen that moment to remove his magical eye and conjure a glass of water to clean it, appearing as though he were bored and oblivious to what had just transpired.

Snape stalked from the room, mumbling what sounded like, "If only I were as fortunate as Alastor and able to remove my eyes at will."

Remus walked towards Tonks, who was actually blushing at their display, and lead her from the room.

As Hermione left the room, Harry and Ron caught up with her. It was at this moment she chose to let her emotions show and blush furiously again.

Harry started laughing, nearly as amused as Dumbledore at her embarrassment. It was a wonder how she managed to return the Slytherin's gesture when she herself was so damn shy. "Didn't know you had it in you." he said, with underlying mirth. When she looked at him surprised he winked at her, "Ginny would be proud, that's for sure."

Huffing, Ron sulkily crossed his arms and stated, "I hope you know he has cooties! I can just see it now, little blonde haired bookworms running around like they're better than everyone and answering questions even when no one's asked any." Though far from thrilled at the idea of Hermione locking lips with the ferret, he couldn't say he hadn't seen this coming.

That night, Hermione found herself restless and consumed by thoughts of Draco. While he said he would be back by morning, she couldn't help but toss and turn as she wondered where he was and why he didn't tell her what he was up to.

Eventually, her weary body demanded that her mind stop thinking so much and slip into a sweet unconscious state of sleep.

"Mmm…" she mumbled as a persistent warmth spread through her. Opening her eyes, she found the first rays of morning light filter through the closed window of Draco's bedroom.

Nibbling at her neck, Draco was propped upon his elbows at her side. "You're back?" she spoke, still groggy, but quickly recovering as she felt his hand slip under her shirt.

"And you're not naked!" he growled, groping her breast.

Grinning broadly, she arched into his hand and recalled a rather vividly erotic dream she'd had. While she was far from being comfortable and completely open about anything sexual, she couldn't ignore the way her body felt around Draco, and she couldn't deny the fact that she did enjoy having sex with him immensely.

"Where'd you go?" she questioned, reaching up and slipping his robes off his shoulders.

Taking her direction, Draco shrugged out of the all too confining garment, pulling his shirt off next. "I had an idea. It worked, that's all." He said, claiming her mouth. "You're little goodbye kiss was infuriating." he spoke before delving deep into her mouth.

Battling him, for dominance, she let herself succumb to his kiss, as she would win either way. Once he broke off, she replied, "Infuriating, or exciting?" she asked, boldly reaching down and groping his groin through his pants.

Groaning loudly, as her hand lingered on his hardened member, and softly rubbed him, he had to rest his head forward, beside hers.

"Tell me" she whispered in his ear, reaching inside his pants this time, giving him the feel of her soft hand on his leaking cock. "Where were you?"

As he bucked into her touch, he swore viciously in his mind, damning the absolute control she could take over him. It wasn't that he was trying to hide anything, but he thought the less worries she had at this point would be better. However her next words stirred him into an immediate confession.

"Let me ride you." she spoke lustfully into his ear, she could see the shiver that ran through him. If speaking the words hadn't made her ready to go right then, surely the obvious effect she had on him did.

"I went to Blain!" he spoke quickly, wanting more than anything to have Hermione do exactly what she'd said, right now.

Though he half expected her to falter and question him incredulously, she simply continued in their foreplay. Trailing her nails across his back and through his hair, she kissed him again, dominantly.

"Why?" she asked further, finishing the kiss and moving again to his pants, where she unbuttoned them.

"We need reinforcements!" he cried, as she grasped his cock entirely and gave it a good stroke.

"And?" she prompted, squirming away and lifting her shirt over her head.

"And, we have them." he finished, chest heaving as he watched her. She was wearing one of his shirts again, and those shorts. The sight almost made him want to shag her with the clothes on. His mind changed however, when the shirt was removed and her breasts bare for his eyes to see.

Though a bit nervous, Hermione now knew there was no going back on her whispered plea. Her body wouldn't let her, it wanted this too badly. So, slipping out of her shorts, she crawled back to Draco, who had discarded his obstructing pants.

Now, as she saw him, though not for the first time, she was still unused to it, but completely drawn and turned on. Straddling him, she lost all patience. The moment she felt his tip in position, she slammed down on him, sheathing him to the hilt.

"Merlin!" he cried out, tossing his head back, much as she did. "Still, so damn tight!" he thought aloud.

As Hermione began her first movement she replied, "I hope that's a good thing."

"Yes" he hissed, grasping her hips and meeting her thrust for thrust as she began. Seeing the lust in his little Gryffindor's eyes did so much for him, he though he might come right then. Hell, when she'd asked to ride him, he almost came.

Building up quickly, Hermione began to whimper as she rocked in a slightly different way to rub her clit against him. She was going to come, she could feel it climbing, building. Nearly there. As Draco made a particularly harsh thrust up into her, the pleasure exploded in waves and she kept rocking against him, riding him out to the fullest.

It felt like the moment she reached her explosive orgasm he followed, spilling his seed into her.

Panting, she dropped forward, laying against his chest, not even bother to move off his him. When she shift her weight slightly, she could feel him growing hard again.

"So, she likes to try different positions" he spoke grinning wickedly. He grew hard again at the image of her breasts bouncing, her head thrown back, and her back arching in ecstasy while she rode him. When his image changed into what he wanted to try this time, he was ready to go again.

Luckily, he'd rushed back and arrived just after dawn broke. So, it was a couple more hours before their presence was required down at the pitch. Draco couldn't think of anything better to do than make up for his absence last night.

Again, down on the grassy field, they arrived, practically glowing with an aura which would have told anyone who cared to look that they'd just been shagging like bunnies.

Moody seemed less than pleased with them, but he'd never comment on what they did in the privacy of their own dormitory. It just figured they were both Head Boy and Girl, so they shared a dorm. But, he did approve of their relationship, it could only make them work better together. What he didn't approve of, was an active sexual appetite when they were already draining so much of their physical energy with training. But, he supposed the fact that they still had energy enough meant they had built a great deal of stamina and strength.

Today, Moody was pulling out all the stops. Ten Aurors, three of which were Untouchables like himself, were present in the Quidditch stadium. Aside from the Aurors was a group of oddly dressed, insane looking vampires. Moody was glad he'd called for so many Aurors, as there was no telling what could happen with a group of vampires around.

Last night, Draco had approached them, after his little public declaration that he was doing the Head Girl. He mentioned a possible recruiting opportunity of their own, a formidable group he'd met and could possibly entice into the war.

Both Dumbledore and Moody had their doubts about this, but apparently Draco made them an offer the leader of their group couldn't refuse.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

**It Begins**

It was early, and the sun was still making its way up. The tall stands, which during a match between Slytherin and Gryffindor were always jam packed with screaming students, now stood empty. There was a stark contrast in the shade of green grass. Half the field was sparkling with dew in the morning sun, while the other side was cast in the shadows, dark green and no shine. Within the shadows, sticking closely to the towers built for spectators, four figures huddled leisurely.

Fancy old-fashioned suits, black cloaks, and pale white skin were Hermione's first observations. Blain stood out among them, not because of his top hat, but there was an air about him that demanded respect and authority. To say she was apprehensive was an understatement. It had only been a matter of days ago that she and Draco had their asses handed to them in battle. They hadn't lasted long at all before they baled.

Taking a deep breath, she watched as Blain walked forward, an obvious reluctance to step into the light, as he seemed to curve along the line between shadow and light. When his dark eyes looked right into Hermione's, she sensed something a bit more sincere about him, something she'd never picked up on before.

Draco hadn't given her any details on what exactly happened last night, and it was most definitely something big. Regardless of not having a clue what their intentions for being here were for, Hermione was far from being fool enough to reject their help. Tomorrow was going to be the final battle, an all out assault against Voldemort. Voldemort's numbers were large and he had dark magic that was powerful, but a resource the Order refused to use. If they were given the chance to include vampires on their side, there would be no hesitation in accepting. Though, this was more a request than an offer, she wasn't going to hinder this, as Blain's expectant look told her it was she which had tempted him here.

"Blain" she called out clearly, walking towards him, as he remained just out of the light.

The crazed creature moved with nothing but grace and elegance, as he reached a white

gloved hand up to remove his hat, and give a low bow. "M'lady" he spoke deeply.

"What was promised to you, that you have come to aide us?" she asked, in a tone, which was subtly impassive, not showing whether she approved of his presence, or not.

Lifting his head, looking far into her eyes, he noticed the change with glee. Dropping his hat, and cane, he bent to one knee and reached out for her hand. Though he stopped short of grasping it, since he knew her powers, she presented her hand after a brief moment. "The Angelus is whole now, and the promise more enticing. We fight, we kill, we enjoy. For you, we come. A feather is offered, I receive this from the Angelus."

Resisting the urge to pull her hand back when he started stroking it, Hermione listened. Well, if his obsessive liking of the Angelus wasn't enough to draw him to their side, then surely the opportunity to fulfill the vampire's bloodlust was. Though, she shivered at the thought of what massacre was sure to be made.

For her part, she didn't find anything special in her wings. They were hard to present and get to come out in the first place, and they were too massive to be convenient. Flying was done with brooms, and while she didn't like brooms, the idea of having nothing to hold onto in the air was even less appealing. In all honesty her wings were nothing more than a safety net, when all else failed and she was plummeting to the ground.

"Sure, a feather. One for each of your buddies also I suppose?" she asked, almost amused at the fact that these were the very same persons who'd tried to beat them up. Then again, Moody tried to do that to them on a daily basis, and look at their relationship with the older Auror.

Still holding her hand, Blain rose, stepping closer to her, his features splayed in the morning's light now, and gently kissed her hand.

The moment Blain did this, there was a rambunctious clambering from the other four vampires, who chose to come forward and join Blain.

One pale creature, who looked rather young, walked up right beside Hermione, and said while clapping and rubbing his hands together, "So, I hear this fiend is quite mad!"

"Yeah, something like that." Hermione replied, not wanting to explain the past fifty years of wizarding history to someone who hadn't cared enough to know until now.

Introductions were made, first by Moody. Of the ten Aurors present, three were Untouchables and Moody did not disclose their names. Then there was Tonks, Samson, Tearnogh, Cody, and two other's they hadn't met before. Their names were Schneider and Terrance. When Moody finished calling their names and having them give a simple nod, Blain jumped up and down, twirling his cane about.

"Renfield, Parry, Shadow, Mimic!" Blain called, and each vampire stepped up. Hermione began to understand why Blain had called Draco a 'maiden'. As Hermione viewed the entirely androgynous appearance of each of Blain's friends, she knew why he had issues with telling the difference between sexes. Upon closer inspection though, she determined that Shadow and Mimic were not boys, and Mimic was quite young looking. They all wore suits though, and their hair was short.

While part of her, well most of her, told her not to bother asking, she did anyway, "And what is it that they are named for?"

Smiling broadly, Blain stopped twirling his cane and became so amused, "That is for battle, not before. Too easy, too easy."

The next seven hours were spent training. They divided up into groups, Blain insisted on being grouped with Hermione and Draco. It was quite like manhunt, only instead of quietly capturing another team you had to beat them into submission. Between the castle and grounds around Hogwarts, nothing was 'out of bounds'.

Considering who they were up against, Hermione and Draco did well to last as long as they had, to the very end. Blain was only caught because he wanted to be, something about needing to tell an amusing joke to the pink haired klutz.

It was a long and exhausting day. Even after working with Blain and his friends, or at least being around them for a longer time, no one felt at ease with them. There was a reason no one ever considered recruiting vampires for their cause. They were violent, insane, and would kill you at the drop of a hat unless you posed an amusement to them. Blain would have killed them in the clearing if Hermione hadn't been an Angelus. The worst and most unsettling part was that they were all deceiving, even if they weren't doing it intentionally. Blain came off as a total nutcase, almost amusing at times. As soon as anyone stopped seeing something as a threat and viewed it as a mad but funny lunatic, they were in more danger for it.

It hadn't taken long for Hermione to understand where Blain's friends received their names, or rather nick names. Renfield was quite possibly the most insane among them, hardly stringing more than two coherent sentences together and always speaking about how he liked to collect 'pretty things'. The fact that he eyed her up and down when mentioning this each time made her extremely uncomfortable. Parry was a creature of unmatchable reflexes. His movements were rarely offensive, and no one was able to land a single solid hit. He deflected or avoided every single attack. Shadow, acted just like her name. Somehow she was able to read and follow a person's movements no sooner than they made them. When she had her target, she became their shadow, no matter how frantically they moved about. And, last but not least, was Mimic. She never spoke, not once. Hermione suspected she might be mute, but then again considering the apparent common insanity among this merry little band, she figured the young looking girl chose not to speak. At the end of their training, Moody had been curious to test out what Mimic could do, though most of them had already seen a bit of it. Mimic was able to copy a person's movements. Moody showed her flash step, and she was able to do it after seeing it done once.

Truth be told, Hermione couldn't help but think that these creatures were rather amusing and exciting. She'd never met a vampire prior to her little trip to Druids Mantra, and afterwards, her opinion of them wasn't too high. After all, they'd taken three students captive. Although, the students had wandered into their territory and they were unharmed. Still, there remained something so intriguing about Blain and his friends. If they didn't have so much to focus on Hermione would have grabbed a quill and parchment and interviewed Blain, getting a first hand account of his life. It was impossible to tell how long they had lived, though if their attire was any indication she'd say at least a couple of centuries.

The solid strength Hermione felt had did not stop the day from flying by faster than her want. Time hadn't been a factor when she was ducking into the Charms classroom to dodge one of Tonks' hexes, but now that it was evening and the battle was on the horizon, time was everything.

Dinner in the Great Hall was silent, even with Harry, Ron and Ginny. Ginny looked like she had been crying, which she had been, as Ron complained at length. Ginny was not allowed to leave the Burrow beginning the moment she returned from dinner. Mrs. Weasley was practically keeping her under lock and key, but understandably so, since Ginny made no secret of her intentions to run off and join the battle.

Half way through the meal Ginny hugged Hermione in a death grip and wouldn't let go, even at her own insisting. Sighing, Hermione tried to calm the young redhead while she started to cry again, "Ginny, this isn't like you."

"I know, but I won't be there and you will, and everyone else… and what happens if-" she started spouting off, but fell abruptly silent.

Hermione had the impression that while Ginny was truly concerned for her, she was also just repeating arguments that she'd already worn out on Harry and Ron, who at the moment seemed impassive about her distress.

"Ginny…" Hermione began, wondering what exactly it was she planned to say. Stroking the girl's long hair, she gently extracted her arm from Ginny's grip and pushed her back. For some reason, Harry and Ron were now looking at her, as though she could make Ginny stop, and become cheerful again. But, it was more than that. It wasn't just about

Ginny, they had come to expect something more from Hermione, every one had. It was now her job to make everything all right again.

Seeing this expectation, Hermione knew she was far from being a single person accomplishing the task, but as their best friend, she was the only person they would listen to and believe.

Pushing her plate away, in a show that she was going to speak, she began again, still not certain of what she wanted to say, "Ginny, tomorrow, we are going to fight. This is going to work." There was no trace of anything but firm resolution in her voice, "Voldemort will strike first, and we will be more than ready. Don't have any doubts, not now, not ever."

Standing up, Hermione blinked over to Harry and Ron, and gave them hugs and kisses, before turning to leave.

Harry and Ron were on their feet in a heartbeat, knowing Hermione might just disappear,

"Wait!" Harry called.

"Hermione, this is the last time we'll get to be with each other like this." Ron reasoned, having thought they were all going to spend the night together, even if Draco was present.

"No." she said, not even turning around, "This is far from the last time. We'll be talking again real soon, tomorrow night perhaps, and I'm sure it'll be at our victory party." She turned her head back to them, craning her neck to see them, she smiled broadly, "I love you guys… and if you get yourselves killed, I'll personally find a way to resurrect you, don't give me that look Ron, you know I could do it, and I'll kill you myself."

Ginny couldn't help but laugh at this. There was something about little innocent Hermione almost making a complete joke out of the fact that her best friends could be killed. There was also something entirely comforting about it, like Hermione could joke about it because she already knew the outcome.

She was gone after another moment, only to have Draco silently follow. Three rather stunned friends were left in her wake.

"I think he needed that." Ron commented to Ginny, as they watched Harry leave the Burrow for headquarters. He was of course referring to Hermione's words earlier, since it was all any of them could think about for some time after.

"I think I needed that too." Ginny replied, knowing that Hermione had given her hope. Ginny figured no one could seem so confident with out a good reason, and that reason was she was certain they were going to win.

"We'll win" Ron said, ruffling his sister's hair, he knew she'd been under a lot of stress. As her brother, he would never allow her anywhere near the battlefield, but he did understand her current point of view. As it was, he'd almost been excluded from the frontline, but he was too stubborn and had Harry petitioning for him.

Since Harry lost sight of Hermione after dinner, he'd been solemn and shut off. Hardly speaking a farewell as he left for Grimmauld place. She was right. They would win. The only trouble with that was his fate, which he thought he'd accepted and moved passed, was going to come to pass very shortly. While there was no telling how long the fighting might last, there was a certain feeling about it, which told him the wizarding world would be changed forever in less than twenty-four hours.

The sky was gray with a thick covering of clouds. The morbid figure of professor Snape loomed over Hermione's tiny figure the entire time she stood before her parents' graves. This was not the way Hermione wanted to pay her respects, not at all. But, she needed to do it anyway, pushing Snape's presence to the back of her mind, she continued with the little act.

It wasn't that she was nervous, but that her nerves were high strung. Waiting for something, anything to happen at any moment. However, her morning went on without incident.

From leaving Hogwarts bright and early, to finding the small cemetery which her mother's parents had been buried in, and therefore her parents would be too, as it was in their will. She'd been there a several times, with her mother, visiting on the anniversaries that marked her grandparents' death. Now, however, the quaint little churchyard that was beautiful on any other day, felt like nothing but a barren wasteland of dull grass, chill winds, and weathered stones. Every shadow had her eyes darting and her body wanting to react. More than once she'd nearly spelled a bird into oblivion, but luckily had refrained from giving anything away to who ever might be watching.

Snape's snide remarks every two seconds didn't help ease her mind any. It was amazing how he could still be such a pompous prick under such circumstances. She would have put him in his place, had she not another year of potion's class to go through with him, and she felt certain he'd have no qualms about failing her just for what came out of her mouth today.

For all her expectations and briefing on what might possibly happen, she was extremely

disappointed. Nothing happened. A few breezes and chirping birds had set her on edge, while she waited for what could be classified as any assault. Kneeling down on one knee, too afraid to be any more vulnerable than that, she bowed her head in silence.

She was too wary to allow herself the actual chance to do what she was supposedly there to be doing; she raised her head and read her mother and father's name without emotion. Grieving and mourning were not emotions she had the time to play host to. After the war was over, but not before.

While her mind raced, knowing that waiting was quite possibly the worst part, she finally broke down and let out a sigh. Chuckling lightly, she wondered whether she'd make it through the day without hexing a bird. Some of them cawed so sporadically that she couldn't help but be ready to fight the moment she hear their call.

But, she didn't think she'd have to worry much about that anymore, it would seem she'd scared them all off, as no songs and chirps could be heard now.

Her head snapped back up suddenly, "Snape!" she hissed as loud as she dared. He wasn't far off, as even he'd respected her space enough to stay at a nearby tree, though only after she'd given him a scathing look.

"That's 'professor' Miss Granger!" he barked back, no different for the circumstances they were under.

"Do you hear that?" she asked urgently.

Sensing the tone of her voice, he tightened his grip on his wand and casually stalked over to her, "Hear what?" he asked, taking whatever she might have heard seriously.

"The birds?" she asked, even more expressive of her frantic mood.

Snape paused a moment, earlier the girl had nearly decapitated a few of the dirty beasts, but thankfully their chipper annoyance was lacking now. "No" he stated, not so sure what she was getting at.

"Exactly" she whispered, standing and looking him in the eye.

Once her meaning set in, she saw the briefest widening of his cobalt eyes and his jaw clench.

"Miss Granger," he started in a return to his usual air of loathing, "Did anyone ever tell you, that too much power can be a bad thing?"

Brows furrowed in confusion she looked at him, wondering at his change in demeanor. "Yes sir. The saying is usually strung along in a political sense." She answered, not sure what else to do. Was this some code she hadn't been briefed on?

Rolling his eyes at the way she managed to change so much and still remain an insufferable know-it-all, he continued, "Power attracts attention. And attention attracts desire. Do you know what the Dark Lord desires?"

Chewing her lip, not understanding what he was getting at she shook her head, knowing something was about to snap at any given moment.

"You!" came a harsh, cold, hiss from behind the tree Snape had just been leaning against.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

**Numbers Matter**

A dark figure stepped out from behind the tree, dark robes swaying with each step. The mask in place made it difficult to identify one Death Eater from another. But, the way this one carried their self, subtly keeping their right hand from direct view, the dark menacing eyes that seemed to be hungering for revenge.

Hermione knew, "Lestrange!" she bit out, using every ounce of will power to remain rooted and not lunge forth in attack.

As Snape's firm hands gripped her shoulders tightly, she also fought the instinct to shake them off. She knew he would have to play his role up a bit, be 'the bad guy' until it was time to reveal all.

"Professor?" she cried in a frightened voice, looking back at Snape.

"Severus," Lestrange sneered, sauntering toward them, slowly. "I think your precious student is a little confused right now."

"To say the least", he scoffed sarcastically, roughly pushing Hermione forward, while jabbing his wand into her back with one hand and still holding her shoulder in the other.

"Professor, what's going on? What are you doing?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes, "This is the woman who killed my parents, why aren't we leaving?"

"Oh the little girl is scared!" Lestrange cackled, upholding every muggle stereotype of what a witch sounded like.

Cringing inwardly, Hermione was now thankful that Snape was holding onto her, less chance of her leaping forward and gouging that woman's eyes out.

"Where is the Dark Lord?" Snape asked, raising a brow.

"Oh, he'll be here Severus. I just wanted to get a little head start, you know say hello to an old acquaintance." As she spoke she raised her right arm and waved it about, her stub outlined by the coverings of a black cloth.

Hermione wanted to comment so badly, to antagonize Lestrange, but a pressuring of Snape's wand into her back, kept her in place. If she gave anything away before Voldemort showed up, everything might be ruined.

Squeezing Hermione's shoulder, tight enough to leave a bruised imprint of his fingers, he tried to impress upon her the need for her to keep acting. "I'll go and meet our Lord, I'm sure you would like to have your fun."

Inhaling in pleasure, Lestrange tore the mask from her face, and licked her lips, "Indeed" she purred, practically drooling over this chance to have a little fun with the trollop who never failed to make life miserable. Since the little chit had shamed Lestrange and taken her hand from her, she'd realized just how much of a nuisance this girl really was. Not only was she best friend to that damn Potter boy, who deserved to die long ago, but she also stood as an exception. Mudblood eradication was the new way, and this Granger girl stood to disprove their ideals. The damn wench had somehow wormed her way into being the top of her class. It was Lestrange's guess that the innocent looking young woman had used her looks to her advantage.

Clenching her jaw, Hermione figured that if she didn't open her mouth, nothing could come out. As Snape released her, she realized just how tightly he'd been holding her, as her shoulder was sore and slightly numb. 'Focus!' her mind shouted, trying to conjure the will to cry some more. Lestrange would love it if she started bawling, so that's what she'd have to do.

'Play it up!' she told herself, "Professor! How can you…?" she let a tear fall, "I trusted you!" she shouted after his retreating back. She still didn't move her feet; afraid of what she'd do once she started moving. Perhaps, she'd take a step and accidentally take a swing right at Lestrange's ugly face.

In mocking sympathy, Lestrange leaned over, like she was consoling a five year old, "Aww, don't cry little girl, everything will be okay." There was a tiny part of Lestrange that felt she should consider the fact that this girl was actually an Angelus. And, considering what had happened last time, it would be wise to use caution. But, according to Severus, the chit had no idea or clue how her powers worked. And, Lestrange figured if she didn't give the girl a chance to do anything, then she'd be fine.

For a moment, as she looked into the Angelus' hazel eyes, she thought she saw something there. Was it… no, it couldn't possibly be, amusement. Perhaps anger, hate, vengeance, loathing, sadness, or fear, but not amusement.

While Lestrange just stared at her, not sure what to make of the feelings she must have started to read on her face, Hermione felt herself reaching her limit. It was one thing for her to promise not to seek Lestrange out or chase the woman down, but was another for the Death Eater to come to her. How was she not going to lash out?

As if on cue, a large flash of blue light burst in the distance, near the bottom of the hill the cemetery was on. Lestrange was distracted and turned her head quickly. It wasn't until the sniveling girl before her spoke up that she returned her attention back.

"You dare come here? Before my parents' grave?" Hermione questioned, in a very dangerous tone. Moody had always preached that overconfidence was a fault that would lead to a quick end. But, being in the proximity of this particular Death Eater, Hermione couldn't help but noticed how, where she was once filled with fear and weakness, she was now unafraid and felt like she had strength. Lestrange didn't know it, yet, but Hermione was far from the helpless girl she'd encountered at the beginning of the summer.

Lestrange straightened up, not sure of what to make from the spell cast just now. It had come from the direction of her rendezvous point. It was her job to bring the girl to Voldemort, who was waiting nearby, with a little surprise. Now, as she looked at the girl, she was taken aback. The tears, which were in her eyes a moment before were gone, her voice was solid and threatening. Lestrange took an involuntary step back.

Seeing a flicker of uncertainty within those cold and heartless dark eyes, which were actually a dull brown when she viewed them in the light, gave Hermione a feeling of satisfaction. The signal had been given, off in the distance, and the battle had begun. She was too far away to hear anything, but that didn't mean it wasn't chaos down there.

"You look confused Bellatrix, is everything alright?" Hermione asked, with a hand to her chest as if she was truly concerned. 'Oh! The Death Eater scum didn't like that one!' Hermione's mind rejoiced, upon seeing the woman's nostrils flare in anger.

Narrowing her eyes, Lestrange was suddenly very wary of whatever predicament she might be in. 'Was it a trap?' she questioned, not believing for a second that the Dark Lord would ever fall unknowingly into any trap.

"'Is it a trap' you wonder." Hermione stated, loving how she could practically read the woman's mind, even though she was a well practiced Death Eater and usually masked her emotions well.

"You're a damn fool if you think for one second that the Dark Lord would ever fall victim to anything that old coot might set up." She screeched in defense of her master, hating how some little girl had read her like a book.

Hermione hadn't moved a muscle, still so unsure of what her body might instinctively do. Biting her lip, she fought the urge to hurt this woman before her, this murderer, who had not only killed her parents but so many other innocent people. Sirius was the next person she thought of. Harry had loved his godfather so much, and this _thing_ had taken that away. As much as Hermione wanted to take revenge and give this creature what she had coming and deserved, Draco's face and voice filled her mind. Draco who loved her and would do anything for her, Draco who had specifically pleaded for her not to do the very thing she wanted to.

"Give up" Hermione whispered at first, hardly able to force the syllables out, "Surrender now, and you'll live and remain unharmed." There was no way Lestrange would ever even consider the offer, but she had to give it, to then be able to tell her boyfriend she tried.

Expectedly, Hermione's words caused more cackling from the deranged psychotic woman. And, she could only close her eyes and take a deep breath, as she fought down the rising emotions within herself. Moody had taught them that using emotions lead to mistakes and bad judgment, so she had to remain as impassive as humanly possible. Though, considering the fresh wounds between them, there was little Hermione could do, since every little thing this woman did felt like she was pouring alcohol on those wounds.

"If Voldemort didn't want you alive, I'd shred you limb from limb, after sweet Cruciatus treatments." Her eyes seemed alive with lust at this, "Such torture, I know you'd love it. Perhaps, you'd like to try some out before we meet the Dark Lord."

"Lestrange, I think there is something you are overlooking entirely." Hermione said, beginning to revel in the eminent fight about to take place.

"Oh?" the Death Eater asked mockingly, hating how the girl seemed to be calm, when months ago she was a floundering fish out of water, crying in fear and rage.

"When you look into my eyes," she said, staring right at Lestrange, so she'd know just what she was talking about, "Do you see _any_ fear?" The moment, she saw Lestrange's eyes widen and pupils change to small pricks, she smiled contently. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." Hermione said, hardly able to believe how the tables had turned.

Now there was anger. How furious the black haired killer was now.

Sneering, she chose to play with the girl emotionally before they got physical, "Don't give me that confident air. Your dear old dad did the same thing, and look where it got him?" she walked past the small half pint and spit on her parents' grave, "How's the view from down there, filthy mudblood!" she cackled again, loving how she invoked rage within the young girl.

**Thwack**

Lestrange's laughter was stopped abruptly, as she was sent reeling. Slightly disoriented, she stumbled backwards, trying to regain her balance. A hand shot to her face, where blood dripped from her lip.

Hermione stood balling her fists, clenching and unclenching them. There was no denying how satisfying punching that bitch felt. In this moment, during this battle, she was not Hermione the bookworm or teacher's pet. She was a daughter and a friend, out to kick some ass and take was mild revenge she could.

"Careful Lestrange. Didn't you know? Muggle parents teach their kids to defend their honor. You've already got me pissed off at the fact that you killed them in the first place, I don't recommend insulting them at this point, I may just snap." She said coolly.

"Mudblood wench!" Lestrange cried, spitting again, but this time to rid her mouth of blood. She must have let her guard down, to not see that coming. Bringing her wand at the ready, she pointed it at the girl's chest, smiling at the power she now had over her.

"Go ahead," Hermione taunted, "I dare you" now she laughed. In a quick movement, she was behind Lestrange, who froze up when Hermione had disappeared from right in front of her. "Boo!" Hermione yelled right behind her.

Whipping around, Lestrange was starting to feel less confident. How had the girl moved like that? Only Aurors moved that fast without apparating. But, it wasn't possible for her to be an Auror.

"No wonder the Giants joined your side, you have a common link with your stupidity." She said incredulously. "Did you honestly think that Dumbledore would keep me at Hogwarts, and not do anything upon finding out I was an Angelus?" Hermione paused for a moment, starting to find no satisfaction in how Lestrange was more like a cornered bunny.

Apparently Lestrange still felt keen on her idea of torture as she tried to cast the Cruciatus curse on Hermione. A few quick steps and she was again behind Lestrange, still contemplating what she was going to do with the Death Eater. It couldn't possibly be this easy. If it was this easy, then how were they losing the war?

Once Lestrange found Hermione again, she tried to cast another spell, a paralyzing spell. It seemed she was becoming frantic in her attempts. Was Hermione's ability to evade the experienced Death Eater so unsettling that she would become desperate so quickly?

"Oh, give me that bloody thing!" Hermione yelled, moving in and easily confiscating the woman's wand, "You don't even know how to use the damn thing properly. No wonder you had to use a dagger to kill my parents!" Hermione stopped, smiling suddenly, "Or maybe, your wand hand was the one you lost?"

Something seemed to snap within the crazed woman. She tried to lunge at Hermione, oblivious to how futile her attempts were. The Death Eater went sprawling to the ground, in a most ungraceful manner, rendered unconscious. A quick, but heavy blow to the head was all it took. Though Hermione could have easily just used a spell, there was more satisfaction in knowing, when she did finally come to, she'd have a massive headache. Performing a quick incapacitating and binding spell for good measure, Hermione turned to the direction the signal had come from.

Before she could go anywhere, and find out what was happening, Lestrange's wand suddenly let off a jet of green light. "Shit!" Hermione cursed, looking above her to see the damage.

There in the sky, the dark gray clouds as a canvas, was the Dark Mark. She'd last seen it above her home, marking her parents' crime scene.

If there was any consolation to be taken, it would be in the fact that even if she'd known Lestrange's wand was rigged, there wouldn't have been any stopping it.

No sooner had she thought this, than many loud cracks resounded about her. A quick scan gave her a count of fifteen heads. There were fifteen, no, sixteen, as another crack was heard, Death Eaters, circling her. A few more apparating dark figures kept the numbers on the rise. While Hermione was confident in her abilities, she hadn't tried them out against a mob of angry sadists just yet. Dammit if that wasn't next on Moody's list of different ways to train them, but they hadn't quite gotten there.

"Draco!" she called.

Not a moment later, Draco was at her side, "You called love?"

"No, I just decided to say your name because I love it so much!" she commented.

'Ah, his stubborn little Gryffindor to the very end.' When she was riled up and in battle mode, they both spoke sarcastically to each other. It was an old habit they hadn't quite fallen out of yet. "Well, it is a good name if I do say so myself. But, since I'm here, perhaps I can lend a hand." He said with a smirk.

There backs were to each other, wands at the ready. The second the first moron cast a spell they were both gone, slinking their way in and out of the dark figured ranks, taking them down as quickly as possible.

Eventually, after a few more pops of reinforcements, their numbers dwindled to but a few. It would seem Voldemort had many followers, many of whom lacked battle skills. There were only a few close calls, where one of them had to help the other out briefly, but other than that they remained unharmed, standing among a cemetery full of bodies. Not unusual, but for the fact that they were still living bodies.

"What's going on down there?" Hermione asked Draco, stepping over a rather large pot bellied Death Eater.

"I don't know, I've been keeping my eye on you." He stated, eyeing her with concern, "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine. But, we don't even know if Voldemort came." She pointed out, wanting to flash right into the center of whatever was going on down there, but knowing it would unwise.

Draco quirked a brow at her, then gestured to the bodies laying about them, "No, an army of Death Eaters just show up randomly."

"Then come on!" she shot back, moving as close to the origin of the signal as she thought wise.

A foot away, Draco joined her a moment later. It was chaos. The open field made for an excellent full out assault, with no tactical maneuvering. There was no place to hide or run to. This was a big disadvantage to them. At least if it were in the cemetery or maybe in the woods, or anywhere but an open field, the less experience fighters could find some shred of protection.

"Merlin" Hermione said, watching everything as if it were in slow motion. The dark forms of the Dementors were mixed in with the dark forms of the Death Eaters. The Giants were many, but she could already see that compared to the number lying on the ground, they had been many more.

"Lets go!" Draco said, moving forward, running in order to draw some attention to himself.

Swallowing, Hermione prepared herself for the real battle.

It was a nice little surprise to find out yet another fact about the Angelus. Apparently, Dementors didn't like her, in fact, the second she drew near to one, it turned and fled. 'How wonderful!' she exclaimed silently. Making a plan to seek out every Dementor within sight, Hermione followed the dark creature.

She thought she hit the jackpot when that first Dementor led her to an entire grouping of them. As the faceless hooded heads swiveled her way, she briefly felt a tinge of fear. They grouped more closely together, but began to creep away.

While she'd never felt in complete control of her powers, or even known if she had revealed all of them, something inside her made her act quickly, without too much thought behind it. Before they could get any further away, she had to act now. Letting whatever instinct it was take over, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Although it was similar to when she tried to release her wings, it wasn't quite the same. There was a pressure, building, and her body started to feel a little warm. But, she kept her eyes closed, concentrating. She had to do this quickly, and she wasn't even sure what it was she was doing.

No, it was taking too long. They had surely fled too far away. She couldn't see the Dementors, but her reason told her they were fast creatures and for some reason they feared her. 'Concentrate harder!' she berated herself.

So, she did. She could feel it, building, more and more pressure. Her body was starting to feel a familiar fatigue, the same feeling she had after her first mission. Pomfrey explained it was extreme exhaustion of her powers; they used a lot of magic. But, she couldn't stop now. Even if she wanted to, she didn't think she could stop.

Sweat began to collect, as her muscles tightened. She needed to release this power, but felt like something was stopping her. It couldn't get out; it was like building water pressure behind a tap that was shut.

How much longer could she afford to take? She was defenseless at the moment. No, Draco would surely be near by, and he wouldn't let anything happen. She just needed to keep concentrating.

Now, she tried envisioning what was going on within her. She pictured what she was feeling. Her mind saw a small ball of white light, slowly growing. Growing as she felt the pressure build. The grip she hand on her wand was so tight, she was afraid she might break it.

The light just kept growing and growing, and the pressure was becoming so great. It felt like gravity had increased ten fold, pushing her down. But it was a pressure on all sides, as if she were submerged deep under water. And her legs felt to tired, she just wanted to keep her eyes closed and fall asleep.

'More power!' her mind called, not even understanding why. So, she kept it up, concentrating harder. Baring her teeth she cried out as she continued to push herself further, and maintain it. It was too much now. She couldn't go any further. She had nothing left.

'No!' she cried, as her legs gave out. Her eyes opened, and before her everyone had stopped, no, not stopped, they were just moving really slowly. As she was falling to her knees, everything moved in slow motion.

Her arms went slack, and her grip on her wand failed. Her mind was already half gone, unable to remain totally conscious. Her eyes moved to her hand, watching the precious wood leave her touch. The second her wand lost contact with her hand she understood, 'so that's why…' her thought was never finished as everything went dark.

On the other side of the battlefield, Harry stood shakily. His adrenaline was pumping madly, and he was now in total disbelief. Dumbledore was at his side before anyone else, while he stood over the motionless body of Voldemort. Dumbledore had been right, there was a suppressed strength within him. Though he was extremely tired all of a sudden, he knew there was still a very active battle going on, and now that Voldemort was dead, it was likely that the more loyal Death Eaters would become crazed. Others might just flee, but it just so happened the loyal ones were also the only ones putting up all of the fight.

"We need to leave!" Dumbledore suddenly said, grabbing Harry's arm.

"What?" Harry shouted incredulously, but his only response was for Dumbledore to raise his wand and signal a red light into the sky, telling everyone to retreat and leave. Sending this signal up twice more left Harry worried. Obviously Dumbledore's message wasn't just to leave, but to 'get the hell out of here, NOW!'

Moody appeared at Dumbledore's side out of nowhere, "You sense it?" he asked, unable to mask his own concern.

"Get Draco, he won't leave I know, get him out of here. Everyone now!" Dumbledore practically shouted. Again Dumbledore shot another retreat signal in the air.

Most the enemy seemed to gather toward the pair of them, wanting to tear Harry's throat out, but not before making him suffer.

Harry wasn't able to ask or do anymore, as he found himself standing not on the battlefield but on the Quidditch pitch. Enraged that Dumbledore apparated him away from a fight he'd been waiting so long for, and just when it seemed they would win. Voldemort might be dead, but his followers were still many, and they hadn't examined the evil bastard's body yet, so there was always a chance, after all Voldemort had a way of coming back from the dead.

Not caring for an explanation, Harry tried to apparate back, but found he couldn't. Even though he knew about the wards against apparating within the grounds of Hogwarts, he thought that if he could get in, he should be able to get out. 'Apparently not', he surmised, rounding on Dumbledore.

But, before he could ask any questions, he heard three more pops, and turned to see who had joined them.

Moody and two other Aurors, Untouchables from what Moody had said earlier at the briefing, were wrestling a wild Malfoy to the ground. Malfoy's face was reddened with fury and rage. The veins in his neck were sticking out; as it was obvious he was putting up a great fight and all his effort into breaking their restraints.

"HERMIONE!" he shouted madly, "HERMIONE!"

Harry started to run toward Draco, concerned at what he might know that Harry didn't.

"LET ME GO OLD MAN! GET THEM OFF ME! MY PLACE IS WITH HER, LET ME GO!" he continued to yell at the top of his lungs.

Dumbledore gave Moody a nod, and the old Auror rendered Draco unconscious with a spell.

"What's going on?" Harry demanded.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

**The End**

"Harry!" Ron called out, arriving along side his brother Charlie, who was sporting a rather nasty over his forehead.

As Harry walked over to them, he caught bits of an argument they were having, something about Charlie jumping in the way like that, being stupid.

"Ron!" he called back, relieved to see he was fine. It was so difficult to keep track of what had been going on, between finally facing Voldemort and the chaos that seemed to have surrounded them.

"What's going on?" the redheaded boy asked, trying to cast a minor healing spell. For all the Quidditch incidents and mischief he'd gotten into, Madame Pomfrey had managed to nag him into becoming a bit more practiced in the basics of medi art. Now, as Charlie was blinded from the dripping blood, he took care of it, if only to stop the bleeding.

"I-I don't know." Harry fumbled, not knowing what had happened. He thought he had killed Voldemort, but Dumbledore had called for a retreat, which meant they were losing, or so he thought.

So many others looked just as confused as they did. Harry couldn't sort anything out; there were too many mixed messages. There were injured friends on the ground, and for those who appeared unconscious, Harry could only hope they were still breathing. But, for the most part, between the Order members and ministry factions who lent their help, they seemed in decent shape. Everyone appeared ready to keep fighting and uncertain as to why they had stopped.

As a hush began to fall over the now mostly accounted for ranks, Harry turned about, looking for the cause of attention. Dumbledore was waiting to speak. As an imposing man, and one so revered, it was easy for everyone's rapt attention to be given. It also didn't hurt that everyone also wanted to know what was going on.

"The Dark Lord-" the older wizard started, "has fallen."

No sooner had the announcement left his mouth than great cheers started up. The combined voices of the celebrating ranks were no less audible for the many who were missing.

As everyone was rejoicing Dumbledore easily slipped away, but for two boys who were not so eager to celebrate but get some answers, nothing went unnoticed.

Sweeping up the main stairs, Harry and Ron ran after the Headmaster. Obviously he wanted them to follow, since if he was able to make his way from the Quidditch pitch all the way back to the castle entrance so quickly, he could have easily been out of sight by the time they left the stadium.

"Professor!" Harry called out.

They caught up with Dumbledore just outside the main entrance, huffing from their sprint.

"Please, follow me." He said, turning to leave again.

"Sir, what's going on? If Voldemort is dead, then why did we run away?" Ron asked, liking this uncertain aftermath even less than the battle he was just in the midst of.

"Voldemort is indeed dead." Dumbledore said.

"But, sir-" Harry jumped in, "How can you be certain?" at the moment, even after Dumbledore's reassurance, he was far from accepting that it could be over. Voldemort was there in front of him, and he'd cleared his mind and tried to focus all his energy and thought into using what he'd ultimately figured was the only attack he could use, Avada Kedavra. Voldemort was far from being taken down just like that. Their wands had connected, like in his fourth year when Voldemort resurrected his body. The man he'd spent the last six years being pitted against in one way or another had finally fallen, at his hand. But, it was not what he'd expected.

How could it be over? He was afraid of a false sense of security. The moment he smiled or laughed, and became excited at the new future ahead, Voldemort would come back. That was always what happened. It seemed like the day after he'd learned he was a wizard and thought he might have a better life, Voldemort loomed over him suppressing everything that was good.

Sure, the past two years had been leading up this time, this moment. When he stood before the dark looming figure of Voldemort, he felt like it was a dream, but he also felt ready. He was confident he was strong enough. And then, he'd said the words; with as much hate and anger he could, picturing every smiling face this bastard had destroyed.

Accepting, for the moment, that Dumbledore spoke true, he was still confused, "Why did we leave?" he asked, keeping pace with a surprisingly brusque walk for someone of the Headmaster's particular age.

"Because, we couldn't stay there any longer." was his only explanation.

Harry was really getting tired of having to break fingers to get a damn reason for everything. He and Ron shared a very dissatisfied look, but they just kept following.

Finally, Dumbledore stopped outside what they thought was a random door. But, upon entering they found Moody, and the two Aurors which they'd seen pinning Draco down while he struggled furiously. And, then, there was Draco, who sat restlessly in a chair. It was apparent that there were some magical restraints on Malfoy, as his hands were glued to the chair arms and he seemed to be trying to struggle free.

The moment Harry's eyes locked on Malfoy's, the Slytherin settled down. "What's going on? Why was Malfoy shouting about Hermione?" he asked.

Moody stepped in, knowing it wasn't always in Albus to be blunt, and if they didn't tell the boy exactly what was going on, he'd be likely to do something rash, "Harry, Hermione was about to do something that would have taken us all out. We had to leave."

"What was she doing? Where is she now?" Harry followed up.

Sighing Moody admit, "I don't know what she was doing, but we could feel the power building. She was like a ticking bomb, we had to get out of there."

"So, she was using her powers, but where is she now?" Harry asked, already half knowing what Moody was going to tell him.

When no one answered him, he turned to Draco, "You know what's going on, where is she?"

Again, trying to tear his hands from their locked position on the armrests, he stared at Harry, "She's back on the battlefield," he bit out vehemently, "by herself!" he shouted, looking from one Auror standing on his guard to the other.

A stumbling mass of back robes came through to open doorway. It was Snape, and he wasn't looking too good, his greasy hair matted, his clothes torn, and even against the black of his robes, the blood soaking through them was visible.

"Severus!" Dumbledore rushed forward, to give the Potion's master a hand. "Alastor, would you floo Poppy?" he asked, directing Snape to a chair.

For a few moments, Snape just stared forward in a daze, as if in shock, "Gone, everything wiped out." He mumbled.

"What's gone Severus?" Dumbledore asked, knowing the man had stayed in the battlefield longer than anyone else.

"It's like before, Albus, with the girl's house… but it's everything this time."

"Oh, gods." One of the unknown Aurors exclaimed.

"Let me go now!" Draco yelled, "You heard it, its over, now let me go!"

"Hold on, we need to wait-" Dumbledore began.

Draco cut him off, "You've made me wait long enough, release me NOW!"

"Let him go." Harry stated, knowing Draco wanted, and had been trying to do, just what he was going to as well.

Draco, Harry, Ron, and Charlie, who had insisted upon accompanying his brother, arrived back near the battlefield.

The four of them stood on the nearby hill, not far from the cemetery, staring down at the small open field that should have been.

"What the hell happened?" Charlie asked in awe.

They had just been here, surrounded by allies and enemies. Ron had just been binding a Giant in place after one of the Vampires had taken it down. Charlie had just been jumping to tackle Ron out of the way as the tribal leader of said Giant swung a fist in revenge. Harry had just been standing over the motionless form of Voldemort. And, Draco had been trying to make his way to Hermione, but found he was held up, by incapacitating every Death Eater in his way.

Before Moody had shown up right in front of Draco, he'd nearly made it to Hermione's side. He'd only let his eye off her for a second. She'd gone after a Dementor. When he turned back and couldn't see her, his heart was in his throat and he couldn't move fast enough while trying to fight. Then he was being told he had to leave. He wouldn't ever want to hurt Moody, but when it became clear he was being detained from Hermione, he tried to get by. Two other Aurors had come to assist, and managed to apparate him back to their rendezvous point upon a retreat.

Now, there was nothing. It was all gone, as Snape had said. The field was this scorched wasteland, dipping down into the earth. No longer a flat plain, but a concave bowl of smoking dirt.

Before Harry, Ron, or Charlie could even fathom where to begin, they suddenly saw Malfoy far below, at the center. It was another couple minutes before they were able to reach him.

Once they came running up, Draco was just standing there, staring off into the distance.

"I repeat, what the hell happened here." Charlie intoned.

"What do you think Charlie?" Ron shot back, not liking how the first thing on his brother's mind wasn't Hermione.

"Any sign of her?" Harry asked, stepping next to Draco.

"No, none." He mumbled in reply, still thinking rapidly.

"Is she alive?" Ron asked, in a raised voice, not liking how the facts were adding up.

"Where is she? What did you see before you left?" Harry asked directly after.

Draco just looked from one to other. Did they honestly expect him to have all the answers? Right now, he needed to be alone and not have these gits slowing him down. "Go back."

"What?" Harry and Ron asked together.

"I work alone." Draco stated, not willing to put up with the two of them at this point.

Draco left them there, moving quickly to the cemetery. He had to think, where could she be? She was most definitely _not_ dead, that was just not possible. But, where could she have gone? For all his reasoning, this incident was just like what he'd been told about the night of her parents' murder, when her powers were awoken. It was described that she was unconscious in the middle of the crater, since she was the source of it. That would mean she should have been down there in the center of that demolished earth.

'But she wasn't' his mind answered. If she wasn't there, and she was most likely unconscious, then someone got here before they did.

Again, Draco was back in the middle of the scorched earth, searching around. The other boys had left, and he feared the damage might be done to something he should have seen before. Thankfully, the others had not gone traipsing around.

With a little searching, Draco found what he was looking for. Foot prints, not his own or Harry's or Ron's or that other guy. Draco had to think for a moment, replaying what and who he had seen after they retreated. There wasn't much time for him to see anyone once he got back. After all, he was being detained and then knocked out, which he resented but there was nothing to be done from a direct hit from a spell like that.

As he observed an odd print accompanying the shoes he tried to rewind and think from a different angle. What was missing? He'd been so patient when they were walking down to the Forbidden Forest, where they could apparate; when all he'd wanted to do was get here in a fraction of the time. During that time, he had observed some of the crowd, who was missing?

"Blain" he whispered, his hopes rising high. The print in the dirt was from his cane, and as he stood to track Blain's path, there were only a few steps near the center. Only a Vampire or an Auror could do that. He was almost certain, as each fact supported his conclusion.

His feet couldn't take him to that clearing quickly enough. He'd let Hermione down, when he said he'd never let anything happen to her. He never should have let her anywhere near the battle.

There was a disturbance, something cold, on her face. As Hermione came around, she could tell it was water. 'Water!' her brain said, knowing how parched she was.

Opening her mouth, the trickle of water flowed in, and she gulped thirstily. Every muscle in her body felt on fire, she was so sore. When she tried to move, she whimpered, realizing too late that having every muscle in pain, meant she couldn't move without feeling all of that.

Groggily, she lifted her lids, having given up trying to move. While her mind jumped back, startled, her body decided it would pretend nothing happened.

"Blain?" she said incredulously, surprised at how she thought she'd almost shouted the Vampire's name, but it hardly louder than a whisper.

She looked up, only seeing the underside of his chin. The rest of his face was covered by his top hat. While she was reluctant to believe it, she could only come to the same conclusion, Blain was sleeping. She didn't think they slept so leisurely. At the moment, her head was resting in his lap, and he was leaning up against a tree trunk.

But, if Blain was sleeping, who had given her water? It was then she realized it was raining. 'Merlin my mind is screwed up.' She surmised, if it had taken her that long to realize there was water falling down all over.

"Blain" she called again, terribly confused at how she ended up laying against the Vampire, back in the clearing of Mistywoods Forest.

Biting her lip, she tightened her stomach muscles and pulled herself upright.

"The Angelus has opened her eyes!" came Blain's voice, positively giddy.

"Blain, please," she began careful, afraid he might decide her being an Angelus was not reason enough to keep her alive. "What happened?"

"Fair maiden, it was truly a grand carnival." He started, flashing in front of her all of a sudden.

Blinking Hermione sighed. She didn't think she'd ever get used to following the movements of others who could move this fast. When he started gesturing with one of his gloved hands, she furrowed her brows. He seemed to be prompting her to move back. She understood what he was getting at after she looked behind herself.

Scooting back, she leaned against the tree he had just been using. Blain eagerly inched closer, sitting in front of her with his legs crossed, much like she'd seen Draco doing with him when she'd returned from delivering the students back to the school.

"So much power!" he continued excitedly, "My friends are delighted. We should do that again sometime."

'Yeah, sure, next weekend perhaps.' She thought.

"Great fun! Great fun! The Angelus makes us all grin!" he said, giving her a grin.

"Where are your friends?" she asked, giving up on getting a play by play from him.

Blain gave her a very serious look. Well, it was half amused still, but for him it was the most serious she'd seen him. "It was because of your wand."

For a few moments, she just stared at him, "What about my wand?" she asked, realizing it was nowhere on her right now.

"You were building your power…" he just kept staring at her.

Hermione thought for another moment, trying to recall what had happened. She was getting bits and pieces now, starting to remember. "I don't know what happened after I blacked out." She looked at Blain again, wishing he'd just talk perfectly coherent for once and tell her exactly what had happened.

"You were using your power, drawing it to a finite mass. You kept building on more and more, but that damn wand you wizards insist on using kept you from releasing it. Those things are death traps, really." Upon seeing the shocked expression on Hermione's face he held his hand up, "Hey, now, you wizards can defend them all you want. But, if you'd start teaching your young to use their magic without the twigs, then they'd be more powerful and have more focus."

Mouth hanging open, Hermione didn't know what to say to the vampire. One minute he's his usual half crazed, dangerous, ready to snap at any moment self, and the next minute he's as elegantly spoken as his movements. "Since when have you been sane?" she asked incredulously, wondering if he hadn't been playing one big game with them all.

"Ah, my dear, I'm far from sane." He gave her that creepy broad smile, "But my mind and words are quite the voice of reason after so many lifetimes of learning."

"Then why the act?" she asked

"There was no act before, this is the act. You wanted me to speak to you like this, so I am."

"I don't think I'll ever understand you." She admitted, not sure how to act around someone she couldn't read.

He laughed at her, entirely amused by the Angelus. It wasn't often he could find someone so interested in the clockwork of a Vampire like himself. Taking off his top hat, he placed it on her head.

Blain put his hat on top of her head, and when the oversized accessory hid her view, she heard boisterous laughter, she tilt her head back to peer out the bottom. Blain was on his back laughing at her.

"The Angelus looks so funny!" he exclaimed laughing some more, and pointing at her head.

Not sure if it would be rude by taking the hat off, lest it be some sort of peace offering, she balanced to the back of her head and sat patiently until he settled down. There were more questions she wanted answered, "What happened after that? You said my wand was holding me back. I remember letting the wand fall, something must have happened."

"Oh it was a grand spectacle. Mimic wouldn't stop talking about it all through our teatime." He waved a hand off, as though while he was bothered by it, it didn't matter at the moment, "Everything was felled by the sublime Angelus!"

As Hermione's mind raced to what he meant by 'everything', she immediately pictured something along the lines of what had happened the night of her parents' death. Everything had been annihilated, destroyed down to the last atom. She felt like she was going to be sick, "Blain!" she cried. "What do you mean by everything?" 'Oh no, no, no, NO!' this was not her intention. She didn't even know what her intention had been, other than to attack those Dementors, but it just kept building and she didn't know how to release it.

"The fellow, I quite like him, Albus, I think he's titled. Well, he sent up that light which you all agreed would be the signal to run away like cowards, and everyone just left." Blain finished lamely, not liking that bit of the battle at all.

"So, everyone left?" she was still confused.

"No, the ones you are waging this war against remained, and though we were ordered we refrained. There was great fun to still be had, when they all left it was quite sad."

As Blain's words washed over her, she sat there, not registering them for a short bit. Once the meaning had sunk in, though, she felt a flush come over her, as though she'd been caught red handed doing a terrible deed. Gulping, she tried to wet her dry mouth. The rain had stopped, so she couldn't open up and drink. "Does that mean," she inquired in a hoarse voice, "that I killed everyone else?"

Blain's face took on a sour look, "Yes! There was nothing for us to do!"

Hermione's eyes immediately watered. How many hundreds of people had she killed? And surely, they weren't all on the Dark side, no doubt some of their own had been left behind or too injured to escape. Her eyes widened, and she looked to Blain for some sort of way out, maybe he could turn time back or erase it.

Seeing the Angelus react like this was rather unsettling, she looked lost now and sad. He didn't mean to make her sad. Maybe she didn't like his hat.

"No, no, no, no, no…" she started mumbling to herself, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them, not caring at the excruciating pain it caused in her, she deserved every bit of pain at this point. As she began to rock back and forth, she continued her mumbling, "no, no, no, no, no…"

He was so confused. The Angelus was acting odd.

Eventually Hermione moved on from the word 'no' and began to whimper softly, as the first of many tears spilled over. Finally, it felt like too much, and she just snapped. Letting out a gut-wrenching scream, she used a lungful to push every fiber of herself into it. When it died down, her face was red and her voice was hoarse, and her body collapsed into sobs. Between sobs she still mumbled the same word, 'no'.

Draco didn't know where exactly the clearing, he'd been to before, was located. It was deep within the woods, and he tried his best to follow the same general steps they'd taken. He was just beginning to wonder if he was getting closer or on some wild goose chase, when he heard it. It was such a painful scream, and the scream came from Hermione. In that moment, his heart stopped. He could feel it, as his chest hurt so badly he had to grasp a hand to it.

Following her cry, he found the clearing in no time. He hadn't been far off. Arriving on the scene, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Hermione was curled into a small ball sobbing, wearing Blain's top hat. While, Blain, for someone so composed, was looking confused and awkwardly rubbing circles on Hermione's back.

At this point, he didn't care what Blain had done or might have done; instead his attention was on Hermione. Rushing forth, he knelt down and scooped her up quickly. She was mumbling, 'no'.

"Blain, what happened?" Draco asked hurriedly.

"There is much to tell, like how funny she looks in my hat-"

"No, Blain, why is she crying?" Draco interrupted, hardly able to have patience for this Vampire.

"I don't know why. I should think she'd be happy. Of course, we were sad, she took all our fun away all at once." He said dejectedly.

Draco's eyes narrowed, "You told her what happened? You told her that she killed them all?" his jaw tightened. While he wanted to kill the Vampire, the crazed creature had done nothing wrong. Hermione would have found out eventually, if she hadn't already known. "Look, I'm taking her back to Hogwarts, but I promise you'll get your feathers, just not right now." Draco said sternly, knowing that if he left it open for debate the Vampire might just do that.

"A trip!" he exclaimed, "I'd like to come, the castle is nice in the dark." He said expectantly.

With a dismissing gesture, Draco let him know it was fine, though there was a silent understanding that Blain wasn't to cause any trouble.

One week later, Madame Pomfrey was fussing over her unconscious patient, administering another sleeping draught. Draco had brought Hermione to the Hospital Wing. In his arms she was sobbing and so upset there was no calming the girl. And, upon inspection, she knew the girl had been back to her old habits of draining herself to the extreme.

It shouldn't have taken so long for her to regain her strength, but there was something ailing her poor soul so deeply that not even the strongest of Severus' sleeping potions could put her in a wholly peaceful rest. So, day and night, they kept her knocked out, forcibly making her well again.

Against all her experienced protests, the blonde Slytherin absolutely refused to leave the Head Girl's bedside. His face was pale and his eyes were becoming shallow. Often times he wasn't alone. Accident prone, Potter and Weasley joined Malfoy. And there was often this other man, who dressed most oddly. More than once, she'd had to reprimand the pale looking man for jumping up and down on the beds. Honestly, in all her years, she'd never met a more immature adult.

This grouping seemed most odd, and down right dangerous in her opinion, but the Headmaster had assured her it was fine. The Headmaster also told her that even if they wanted to separate the group, it would prove impossible.

During that week, which the youngest key figures of the war, spent locked up in the Hogwarts' Hospital wing, the wizarding world was celebrating. Voldemort was dead, which Harry still couldn't believe, nor could many others. But, he did have a bit of an inclination to think that even if he hadn't accomplished the goal, though Dumbledore said he did, then Hermione's unwanted and unintentional decimation of everyone on that field would have hammered the final nail on the coffin.

No ugly trials, no rounding up escaped Death Eaters, it was a devastatingly clean victory.

But, there was no satisfaction in it for Harry or Ron or Draco. All joy was taken out of it as they watched Hermione's eyes leek tears in her sleep, and witnessed when she woke up sobbing and apologizing frantically and begging forgiveness.

Let the rest of the wizarding world have their joy and happiness, there would be none of that for them. They had done the job, but at what cost?

Three more weeks passed, and Hermione had been out and about for some time. School had begun again, and she was slowly coming back to her old self. Through much consultation from Draco, she'd come to move on, if only a little. She highly expected she'd feel guilty for what she'd done the rest of her life, but being with Draco made her feel happy again, which meant she could move on.

As each day passed, she felt a little stronger, more like herself. As she received her first A+ of the semester, she began to feel more comfortable in where she was. It was also a nice little perk to be able to spend each night in the bed of Draco Malfoy.

She'd always feel burdened and marred by the lives she'd taken. And, after she'd given Blain his feathers, she felt a need to shun her Angelus abilities, at least for a little while. But, she had her two best friends, an amazing lover she was head over heals for, and even Blain who randomly showed up during meals in the Great Hall, scaring all the students and making Dumbledore laugh. She also got a great kick out of going public with her relationship with Draco. He had been most smug in the announcement, or rather like before, display of inappropriate affection.

At least they'd always have each other. They had been through a war together. Nothing could tear them apart. None of them would let it.

A/N: **A huge thanks goes out to all my reviewers! **My first story is indeed finished. No Longer Helpless is now complete. I can't thank the reviewers enough, for your support and warm words. For those who reviewed constantly, you know who you are, I'm so grateful. It was for you guys that I updated as quickly as I could. When you guys complained about my cliffhangers, I got right back on the computer and started the next chapter. As far as a sequel goes, we shall see. I'm not certain at this point, though it's not out of the question.

Right now, my next big story is: Is This Love Real? This is definitely another long-term project like this story. Once it is finished I may come back and write an epilogue of sorts or a sequel. But, I can't help it; I'm totally obsessed with the Labyrinth right now. If you're interested, check it out, it's on this same site… just different category.

THANK YOU ALL! You guys rock!


End file.
